


hiraeth and nocturnal reverie

by Salty_Cro



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Duck Newton POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existentialism, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Gore, POV Third Person Limited, Panic Attacks, Prostitution mention, The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast) - Freeform, Trans Duck Newton, Trans Indrid Cold, between arcs, clairvoyance as a plot point, duck newton is a dumbass, emetophobia warning, moth anatomy, no longer canon compliant, the government gets involved, tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Cro/pseuds/Salty_Cro
Summary: Duck Newton is just a regular guy now. He can't do anything about that. But for some reason, Indrid keeps showing up. Duck can't help but get a little attached to the guy, especially since he's the only one who knows anything about destiny.





	1. fears to note

**Author's Note:**

> hello y'all, this is the big thing i've been working on. i have most of it written already, so expect regular updates. anyways, justin ruined my life ✌  
> this takes place about a month or so after the last arc, so leo's shop is rebuilt and he's been training duck pretty regularly  
> also winnie, the cat that appears in this fic, was created by the wonderful thor20 on here/@taako-waititi on tumblr! if you haven't read her fic then like why are you even here lol hers is so much better

Fear. Nightmares. Destiny.

 

That was the life Duck was living now. Every few nights, he woke up in a cold sweat, vividly remembering his dream. The dreams weren’t even visions. They were just distorted memories of the abominations mixed with formless voices whispering things he couldn’t understand.

 

The dreams had become routine at this point. Every time it happened, he got up, made himself some food, sat down in his little living room with Winnie and tried to forget. Some things helped with the aftershocks. Splashing cold water on his face, changing clothes, going for a walk if it was warm enough. Sometimes those things didn’t work as well as they should. But Duck was nothing if he didn’t try, so he went through the motions.

 

It was late, or maybe early, when Duck walked out of his apartment. He had thrown on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt with a jacket over it. He ambled down the side street to the main drag. He didn’t have any idea where he was going, but he wasn’t going too far.

 

“Hello, Duck.”

 

Duck turned toward the voice. His hand instinctively reached for where Beacon would normally be coiled around his waist. He had left the sword at home, obviously. He was starting to panic. As he spotted the source of the voice, he relaxed slightly.

 

“Hey, Indrid,” Duck replied.

 

Indrid was barely recognizable under the seven jackets and scarves he had amassed on his thin frame. He was standing under a streetlight, and every foggy breath was highlighted in the yellow glow. Duck saw his own bedraggled reflection in Indrid’s big red glasses.

 

“Another prophecy, then?” Indrid asked.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Duck admitted.

 

“I understand,” Indrid said. He moved inhumanly fast, and suddenly he was in front of Duck. “I’ve noticed the difference in how you’ve been acting lately.”

 

“I’m not sure I wanna talk about all that right now,” Duck said tiredly.

 

“Of course,” Indrid said. There was a beat, then he added, “Do you want to go see a movie?”

 

“What time is it?” Duck asked.

 

“3:24 and 26 seconds,” Indrid said.

 

“So where are we gonna see a movie?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, there are many places showing movies right now. But within walking distance is your place, or any number of places in which a DVD player might be set up,” Indrid said.

 

“You’re being cryptic on purpose,” Duck noticed.

 

“It distracted you though, didn’t it?” Indrid raised his eyebrows.

 

“Yeah,” Duck shrugged, “And, I mean, if you want, you could come over. I don’t know that I have any good movies, but...”

 

“Really?” Indrid replied. It was obvious he already knew the answer and was just trying to play along. Duck appreciated the effort.

 

“Well, I’m not gonna be getting back to sleep anytime soon,” Duck sighed.

 

“That sounds great,” Indrid smiled. Duck vaguely noted some extra pointy teeth. Cool.

 

Duck led the way back to his apartment. He mostly looked at the ground, but every now and then he would look up at Indrid. Indrid shivered. Duck thought about walking closer to him. Before he could, a moth (regular, small, brown, not Indrid) zipped across his vision. He watched it flutter around the streetlamp.

 

Duck thought of something. “Hey, this is gonna sound like a weird assumption, but--”

 

“No, I don’t fly into lights,” Indrid said. His voice was a weird mix of exasperated and amused.

 

“I didn’t think that,” Duck said. He didn’t. Mostly. “I meant, like, do you avoid bright lights? I’ve never seen you outside during the day, at least willingly.”

 

“Yes, I think I would classify as nocturnal,” Indrid said, laughing slightly. “Not that I sleep much during the daytime either, but…”

 

“And you still picked sunglasses, huh?” Duck said.

 

“Well, they contribute the most to my aesthetic. Besides, eyes are the hardest part to conceal, at least for most of the animalia-based people from Sylvain. And they are very useful for blocking glare,” Indrid explained.

 

“Yeah, that makes sense. Y’know, the, uh, some of the rangers do this full moon, like, stargazing hike, and they use red flashlights so there’s less light pollution. Is that the same kinda idea?” Duck asked.

 

“I would say so, yes. I’m already bombarded with sensory input as it is, so the glasses make it a little bit easier,” Indrid said, “And no, like I said, I’m not naturally drawn to light.”

 

“What are the four space heaters for then?” Duck teased.

 

“Warmth, obviously,” Indrid said. As if to prove his point, he shivered again.

 

“Well, we’re here, so you’ll at least have the shitty heater in my apartment,” Duck said.

 

Sure enough, they were outside Duck’s apartment complex. He held the door open and Indrid went inside. Up the stairs, down the hall, first door on the left. Finding the key and unlocking the door was muscle memory. Again, Duck held the door open.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t know I would be having anyone over,” Duck said.

 

His apartment wasn’t too bad, but there was dust on the bookshelves and dirty dishes in the sink. A basket of clean laundry was on the floor just inside Duck’s bedroom door. Duck walked over to the kitchen, stepping over Winnie, and turned on the light.

 

“It’s alright. Besides, you’ve seen my living habits,” Indrid said.

 

Duck glanced over at him. Indrid was standing awkwardly by the door. Winnie walked over to him, interested in this new person. Indrid cautiously extended a hand to her, and she rubbed on it. Indrid pet her head. So Winnie approved of Indrid, good to know.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said, as he realized he was staring. He started digging through a cabinet. “You can, uh, sit down, if you want.”

 

Indrid didn’t say anything as he moved to the couch. He was still wrapped in all his layers, but he didn’t look like he was going to take them off. Duck started putting hot cocoa ingredients into a saucepan. Silence sat in the room like a thick coating of dust.

 

Duck had to break it. “You can pick a movie. They’re in the left door of the\--”

 

“TV stand. Does it matter which one?” Indrid finished his sentence, standing up.

 

Duck shook his head. “Whichever you want.”

 

The quiet was replaced by Indrid shuffling across the room and digging through the plastic DVD cases. The cocoa started to boil. Duck turned back to it and kept stirring. Once it was ready, he took it off the heat and added the rest of the milk and some vanilla. He started digging in the cabinets for some mugs. Mistake.

 

“ **DUCK NEWTON!** ”

 

The telltale sound of plastic hitting wood came from the living room, along with some kind of chittering. Duck quickly shut the cabinet door.

 

“ **Who is with you at this early hour?** ” Beacon’s muffled voice asked.

 

“Duck?” Indrid said.

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Duck said.

 

“No, I know it’s your talking sword. Why is it in your cabinet?” Indrid asked.

 

“Ah, well, it’s partially to hide it and partially to _shut it up_ ,” Duck said, directing the last words to the cabinet.

 

“ **Is he here to help you train?** ” Beacon asked.

 

“No, Beacon, he’s just a friend. We’re gonna watch a movie. Can you be quiet?” Duck replied.

 

“ **The only volume I know is justice!** ” Beacon declared.

 

“Well, then you can go back to the Cryptonomica,” Duck said.

 

“ **Fine. You will be training later, correct? Now that you are apparently some regular mortal, you must work even harder!** ” Beacon said.

 

“Sure. Whatever. I’m gonna get some mugs out. Don’t yell while the door’s open,” Duck said.

 

Tentatively, he opened the door again. Beacon kept its mouth shut. Duck grabbed the two mugs closest to the front and shut it quickly.

 

“Does it always do that?” Indrid asked. His shoulder blades were drawn back, like he was flexing his wings. Duck figured that was probably what he would be doing, if he were in his Sylvan form.

 

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s always ‘ **follow your destiny** ’ this or ‘ **learn to wield me properly** ’ that,” Duck said.

 

“That was a very accurate impression,” Indrid noticed.

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve had it for a while,” Duck shrugged. He ladled some hot cocoa into a mug and handed it to Indrid. “Here.”

 

Indrid took the mug, after a moment. “Duck?”

 

“Yeah?” Duck replied.

 

“Was this on purpose?” Indrid asked. Duck looked over at him.

 

In Indrid’s hand was the Mothman mug that Ned had given Duck a few years ago. Duck felt his face heat up.

 

“Shit, sorry, no, fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to--dammit!” Duck said.

 

“It’s alright, Duck,” Indrid said, “It’s funny.”

 

“Are you sure?” Duck said. He really hadn’t meant to pick that mug.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said. He took a sip from the mug, as if proving that it was fine.

 

“It’s gonna be hot,” Duck warned. Indrid drank it anyway.

 

“Duck, I’m wearing three jackets and four scarves inside your relatively warm apartment. If this was too hot I would be dead,” Indrid said, “It’s delicious, by the way.”

 

“I’ll have to take your word for it, because it’s still too hot for me,” Duck said. He picked up his Forest Service mug and filled it with cocoa. Then he set it down and opened the far cupboard. There they were.

 

“Marshmallows?” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t make hot cocoa without ‘em,” Duck said, popping one in his mouth. “Want some?”

 

“Of course,” Indrid said. Duck poured some into Indrid’s mug.

 

“Did you pick a movie?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said. He set down his mug on the counter and walked back over to the TV stand. The DVD he dropped, Duck noticed, was “Drive.” Duck didn’t even remember buying that one.

 

“Wow, you really are on a Ryan Gosling kick, huh?” Duck said.

 

“We don’t have to watch it,” Indrid said.

 

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t watched it since I got it, I don’t think,” Duck said.

 

Indrid started pushing buttons on the DVD player. Duck wondered if Indrid actually knew how it worked. He barely knew how it worked himself, honestly. Luckily, Indrid seemed to figure it out. The disc tray slid in and started whirring.

 

“Which input is it?” Indrid asked, holding the remote up to his eyes.

 

“Uh, three?” Duck said. He really wasn’t sure.

 

The television turned on. The “no signal” message flashed. Indrid pressed a few buttons. The blank screen flickered and was replaced by the title screen of the movie. Turning back to Duck, he smiled. Duck was hit with the domesticity of the moment, despite them barely knowing each other. A weird feeling made itself at home in his chest.

 

“I think you can use the same remote to start it,” Duck said, trying to distract himself.

 

He picked up his mug and walked over to the couch, sitting down in his usual spot. Winnie perched on the armrest next to him. Duck pet her absentmindedly. Indrid was still figuring out the remote, trying to start the movie. Once he did, he grabbed his cocoa and sat down next to Duck. He curled up into his excessive layers almost comically, like he was trying to cram his 6’ 5” frame into as small a space as possible.

 

“Are you good, or do you need a blanket too?” Duck asked.

 

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Indrid said.

 

“Really? Damn, Indrid,” Duck said, hiding a grin. He got up and went to the closet across from his bedroom. He pulled out a red fleece blanket he hadn’t used in at least three years and went back to the couch. “Is this good?”

 

“Yes, thanks,” Indrid said, taking the blanket. He then proceeded to wrap it around himself like a cape.

 

The movie was actually starting now, so Duck sat down again. He was starting to feel tired again. As the movie went on, Duck’s eyelids started to sink. Winnie helped him stay awake, mostly by batting his hand when he went to take a drink of the cocoa. He tried to tell her that it was bad for her and it was too hot, but she did not care. On the fifth time that Duck almost spilled it, Indrid took notice.

 

“Hey,” Indrid said. But he wasn’t talking to Duck. He was addressing Winnie. Surprisingly, Winnie looked at him. “You can’t have that.”

 

Winnie mrowed at Indrid. Indrid shrugged at her.

 

“I don’t know what that means,” Indrid said. Winnie didn’t respond to that, but definitely stomped across Duck’s lap to go sit on Indrid.

 

“Wow, that’s the first time I’ve seen her do that,” Duck said, with equal parts irritation and surprise.

 

“Maybe she knows I have feathers,” Indrid said, “And she’s planning an attack.”

 

“Y’know, I wouldn’t put it past her,” Duck said. Winnie seemed perfectly innocent, curled up in Indrid’s lap. But Duck knew about her crimes.

 

They went back to watching the movie. But with no cat to ward off, Duck was getting drowsy. It was a lot of work just to stay sitting up. He drifted off somewhere during the fifth dialogue-free drama scene.

 

~☀~

 

When Duck woke up, he was alone. He checked the time: 8:13. Shit. He was going to be late for work. Getting up quickly (and disturbing Winnie), he walked into the kitchen. Both of the mugs from last night were washed out and placed on the drying rack. Duck didn’t have time to think about that right now.

 

Fifteen harried minutes later, Duck walked out to the Forest Service truck he was borrowing. Someone seemed to have other plans, though.

 

“Duck!” Leo greeted, “Good morning. A little late today, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I must’ve missed my alarm,” Duck said.

 

“Sure,” Leo nodded.

 

“What?” Duck frowned.

 

“I saw a guy leaving your apartment earlier this morning,” Leo said. Duck’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, heh,” Duck said sheepishly.

 

How could he explain Indrid coming over in a way that didn’t sound like a euphemism? Would it be better to lie? Well, it would, but Duck didn’t really have that option. Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything before Leo spoke.

 

“Well, I’ll let you get to work. Wouldn’t want those trees going unsupervised,” Leo said. He walked over to his own car.

 

“See ya,” Duck said. He quickly opened the door of the truck, got in, and pulled it shut.

 

Well, that gave Duck about twelve minutes before the whole town knew about the mystery man he had supposedly slept with. He started the truck and drove off. Hopefully he could avoid the gossip until he got home from work.

 

~☀~

 

Duck was putting a shopping list together in his head. He drove through the trees onto the main road. After a few days of skateboarding to work, he had realized what a dumb idea that was. Juno had been nice enough to let him use a Forest Service truck to get around. Duck was grateful for that, because he had fallen a considerable amount. Also, skateboards don’t tend to have heaters.

 

Duck was going to stop into Leo’s store before he headed home. That would give him a chance to assess the damage Leo had wrought. Duck had a certain reputation, and if word got around that Duck was entangled with the weird guy that lived in the trailer park, then…

 

Whatever. Duck could maybe ask Leo about it when he got there. If he worried about it, it would mess him up. He might end up saying something that would be bad for Indrid or himself. It would be fine. Getting there was the hardest part. Duck just focused on the road and continued trying to make a list.

 

Duck pulled into the small parking lot of the general store. There didn’t seem to be anyone else there, but most people were probably eating dinner right now. He got out of the truck and went into the store. Inside was pretty empty; Leo was sitting behind the counter reading a Lamplighter, but no one was in the aisles. Leo looked up as the bell over the door chimed.

 

“Oh, hey Duck! How was work?” Leo greeted, setting the paper down.

 

“Y’know, same as always,” Duck replied. He wondered if he should ask about who came into the store today.

 

“So, whaddya need today?” Leo asked. He was being a lot less talkative than usual.

 

“Just some groceries,” Duck said. Leo nodded and picked up his Lamplighter again.

 

“Are ya having any guests over?” Leo asked. There it was.

 

“No--not that I know of,” Duck said hesitantly. It was the truth, but he had a feeling Indrid would show up again sometime soon.

 

Leo just nodded. He seemed to be scrutinizing a certain article. Duck was pretty sure he knew which one. He tried to ignore all the anxiety setting in and picked up a shopping basket. If he could just get what he needed and get out, he would be fine.

 

Fortunately for Duck, his list was pretty short. He picked up salt and sugar, and some more cocoa powder and marshmallows. Bread, instant noodles, shredded cheese. As he was grabbing the milk he hesitated. Should he buy eggnog? It wouldn’t hurt. Duck put it in the basket and went up to the front.

 

“All set?” Leo asked.

 

“Yep,” Duck replied. He set the basket on the counter and Leo started scanning things.

 

“We’re gonna practice tonight, right?” Leo said. Shit.

 

“Yeah, for sure,” Duck said. He absolutely did not remember that at all. Great.

 

“Alright, great. You’re all set,” Leo said. Duck pulled the total out of his wallet. Leo gave him his change and receipt.

 

Duck walked out as fast as he could without seeming weird. He opened the backseat of the truck and shoved the bags in. Then he got into the driver’s seat and took off. He had a lot of shit to figure out, and now he had a time limit.

 

As Duck turned onto the main road, he saw a figure walking along the side of the road. They were hardly recognizable under the layers they were wearing. But the familiar glint of red caught Duck’s attention. He pulled up next to Indrid and rolled down the window.

 

“What are you doing out here?” Duck asked. Indrid stopped.

 

“Waiting for you,” Indrid said.

 

“I--what? In the middle of town?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, you are here now,” Indrid pointed out.

 

“Okay, fair enough. Why were you waiting for me?” Duck said.

 

“Well, I think we need to talk before you inevitably tell Leo everything,” Indrid said. He gestured to the passenger door. “Can I come in?”

 

Duck unlocked the truck. Indrid hastily got in, cramming his long limbs into the small space. He brought the cold in with him. Duck turned up the heater.

 

“Indrid, I don’t gotta talk to him until later. You coulda waited at my apartment or something,” Duck said. He started driving again.

 

“Okay, I know you know me, but to literally anyone else I look like a sketchy murder hobo, Duck,” Indrid said, “Loitering in your apartment building would get me arrested.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Duck said. He turned down his street.

 

“I won’t stay long. In fact, I think it’s better if we stay in the car for our conversation,” Indrid said.

 

“I-- alright,” Duck replied, slightly confused.

 

Sure, seeing Indrid leave his apartment for the second time in one day might be weird, but people needed to mind their own business. He drove into his designated spot and parked the truck. He left it on so the heat would keep going.

 

“Here is what I’m seeing: you are going to say something revealing to Leo, no matter what I tell you right now,” Indrid said.

 

“Wow, your faith in me is overwhelming,” Duck said.

 

“It’s through no fault of your own. I don’t know much about Leo, but he clearly has some sort of interrogation tactics he’s going to use on you. Combined with the swordfighting, your anxieties will get the better of you and you’ll say something,” Indrid said.

 

“So you’re trying to get me to say something that won’t ruin everything,” Duck realized.

 

“Exactly. Obviously, you cannot under any circumstances reveal my identity, so that leaves us with two options. You tell him that I was helping you with your nightmares, or you tell him that we were hanging out and you fell asleep so I had to leave on my own,” Indrid explained.

 

“Now hang on, why are those the only choices?” Duck asked.

 

“We need minimal follow-up questions,” Indrid said, “He’ll ask how you know me, and you have to say I’m a friend from out of town. If you think about it hard enough now you can cement it in your mind and you won’t mess it up. But don’t practice it, because then he will think that he’s seeing through you in that we’re together.”

 

“Is that-- I mean, I’m not saying it’s what we should do but wouldn’t that just be the easiest thing to say?” Duck said, instantly regretting it. Indrid tilted his head slightly.

 

“Here’s the thing. In a world where you are good at lying, that would be the easiest approach. But as things are you’re shitty at lying and he would be even more suspicious of me,” Indrid said.

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said.

 

“Alright, I should go. You have about sixteen minutes until Leo gets here,” Indrid said. He turned the heater down and got out of the truck. Duck watched him walking back towards the main road, and then a car passed, and Indrid was gone.

 

Alright. Duck had come to expect weird shit like that. He just turned off the truck and went into his apartment building.

 

~☀~

 

A blade narrowly missed Duck’s elbow. Duck brought Beacon up and tried to catch the broadsword with it. He wasn’t able to, but he didn’t take any damage.

 

“You’re distracted, Duck,” Leo noticed.

 

“I guess you could say that,” Duck said.

 

He dipped away from Leo’s broadsword and jabbed Beacon at Leo’s armored stomach. There was a sound of sharp metal scraping dull metal, and Leo leapt away. Duck parried another swings and tried to get behind Leo.

 

“Got anything to do with that man at your apartment?” Leo asked. He easily dodged Duck’s attempt at an attack.

 

“Uh…” Duck didn’t know how to answer. He would avoid talking as much as he could, as well as the sword Leo almost hit him with.

 

“I thought so. I’ve seen him around a couple times. Came in to buy eggnog last week. Kind of a weird guy, huh?” Leo said as he danced away from Duck’s blade.

 

“He’s nice once you get to know him,” Duck said noncommittally. He sliced at the air, missing Leo by an inch.

 

“How do you know him?” Leo asked.

 

“Oh, he’s a friend from out of town,” Duck said.

 

He was surprised at how well the lie slipped off his tongue. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Indrid was definitely not from Kepler. Leo swung at him more violently than before. Duck used that opportunity to kick Leo’s legs. Leo stumbled, but didn’t fall.

 

“Yeah? Where’s he from?” Leo interrogated. He swung at Duck again, this time scraping the protective plating on Duck’s arm. Duck hit the broadsword with Beacon, buying himself time to get away.

 

“Well, he, uh, lives in a trailer, moves around a bunch,” Duck said.

 

“Uh-huh,” Leo said, “You seem awfully friendly with him.”

 

“Well, ah, yeah,” Duck said. He pulled Beacon away quickly and whipped it at Leo’s chest. Hit.

 

“Is it more than that?” Leo asked, seemingly incensed by Duck’s success. Leo lashed out and made a sizeable dent in Duck’s shoulder plate. Duck hissed and blocked the next attack with Beacon.

 

“Is it-- no, no, we’re not, uh, eh-heh, that. That’s not, uh, what it is,” Duck laughed nervously. He slashed Beacon toward Leo’s arm.

 

“Of course not,” Leo said through gritted teeth.

 

Then, incredibly fast, Leo kicked Duck’s legs out from under him and pinned him on the ground with his broadsword. Duck hit the ground hard, and all his breath was knocked out of him. He looked up at Leo in shock.

 

“You gotta be vigilant,” Leo said.

 

“...Yeah,” Duck panted. He didn’t know if Leo was talking about just now or with Indrid.

 

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today,” Leo said. He helped Duck stand up. “You’re doing better than last time.”

 

“That’s good. Hate to think you keep knocking me down for nothing,” Duck said. He would definitely have some bruising, but it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as when he first started.

 

“Yeah, for sure,” Leo said.

 

They walked in through the back door of the building and up the stairs. Duck’s legs were starting to ache. He waved goodbye to Leo as he unlocked his apartment door and went inside. Winnie greeted him with a meow and led him to her food dish.

 

“Now, you’re telling me it’s empty but there’s still food in it,” Duck said. He crouched down and picked up a loose handful of kibble. Winnie investigated his hand with her nose. It was to her liking, so she ate them out of Duck’s hand. “There you go.”

 

He dropped the remaining bits back into the food bowl and stood up. His knees protested audibly, popping and cracking as he walked into his bedroom. At least he didn’t have to work again until tomorrow evening.


	2. what the water gave me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Existential bullshit, water trauma, and a warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things: 1) /Underlined/ indicates that Indrid is saying it at the same time  
> 2) this chapter has some depressing themes including but not limited to: existentialism, panic attacks, remembering almost drowning, and getting stuck in a shirt. viewer discretion is advised.

Pines. Maintenance schedules. Snow. 

 

All the things Duck should be thinking about were flitting through Duck’s head. It was just over a day after his last training session, and his entire body was sore. He was sitting alone in the ranger station, on the graveyard shift. Nowadays all his shifts felt like a graveyard shift. The sun was going down earlier every day. Duck went through this every year, but it always got to him. He missed the daylight.

 

Either way, there wouldn’t be daylight now. Duck looked at the green lights of the digital clock on his desk. 1:06. Just under two more hours, then Duck could go home and sleep. God, he really wanted to sleep. He had ignored Juno’s advice; instead of taking a nap like he should have, he had watched a local show about ski tourism. Now he was paying the price.

 

Duck caught himself dozing off again. His head snapped up and he looked out through the window by the door. To his absolute terror, two red eyes reflected back at him. Duck reached for the desk drawer where he kept Beacon.

 

Then whatever the creature was knocked. Duck blinked. He could see a humanoid silhouette through the glass. His sleep-slowed brain finally connected the dots. It was just Indrid. Duck got up with a huff and opened the door.

 

“ You scared the shit out of me ,” Duck said at the same time as Indrid.

 

“Sorry about that. I have a tendency to be terrifying,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said, “What’s up?”

 

“Can I come inside? It’s cold out here,” Indrid asked. Duck noticed the three jackets he had piled on, as well as a red scarf and a black beanie.

 

“Sure,” Duck said. He stepped aside to let Indrid in, and then let the door swing shut.

 

“I’m not here for any one reason in particular,” Indrid admitted, looking around.

 

Duck started, “I don’t--”

 

“You aren’t being rude, I understand that you’re working. I’ll stay out of your way,” Indrid said. Duck frowned.

 

“Okay,” Duck said. What could he say? It wasn’t like Indrid was gonna trash the place. At least, he hoped not. “Sorry we only got the one space heater.”

 

“That’s alright. The walls here actually keep the heat in,” Indrid said. Duck nodded.

 

“‘S there something I can get you? We got coffee, or hot chocolate, or those nature mountain bars or whatever,” Duck offered.

 

“I’m okay,” Indrid said. Duck didn’t blame him. The coffee was watery at best and the granola bars disintegrated in your hands as you opened them.

 

“I talked to Leo, but I’m guessing you already know what happened,” Duck said.

 

“Yes, you did well, considering the circumstances. But you did take a nasty fall. I think it’s time for another aspirin,” Indrid said.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Duck dismissed. Indrid made a chittering sound.

 

“Come on, Duck. I hate saying I told you so,” Indrid said.

 

“Fine,” Duck sighed. He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out the aspirin bottle. He took two pills with coffee. Why did Indrid care so much anyway? “Well, I’m gonna get back to work.” 

 

Indrid didn’t reply. He looked distracted, looking at something on the bulletin board. Duck looked at his own desk. He figured he should actually do work now. Picking up a stack of rental permits, he started checking which ones expired tomorrow--or today, rather. Most of them went through the weekend, but one of them was coming up. Duck would have to leave that one out for whoever would be there in the morning. He wrote a post-it note and stuck it on the paper.

 

“Duck?”

 

Duck jumped. He spun around in his office chair and glared at Indrid.

 

“You did that on purpose,” Duck said. Indrid’s smirk proved him right. “Come on, man, it’s too late for this.”

 

“I just wanted to ask you something,” Indrid said innocently.

 

“Shoot,” Duck said tiredly. He wasn’t up for mind games right now.

 

“Do you--well, actually, it can wait. I don’t want to make my chances worse,” Indrid said.

 

Duck rested his face in his hands. “Now what could that possibly mean?”

 

“Well, then I was wondering if there was any chance of someone finding out that I live on federal land without any sort of permit or licensing,” Indrid said.

 

“God, Indrid, I dunno, can’t you see that better than me anyway?” Duck replied, dragging his hands over his face.

 

“I should have been more clear. I meant are you going to call the cops on me. At first, I thought you weren’t, but as I’m continuing to talk the chances are increasing so I will stop,” Indrid said, flexing his shoulder blades back.

 

“I’m not gonna call the fuckin’ cops on you, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“Is it because I’m more valuable when you can talk to me or because you actually like me?” Indrid asked, walking back towards the window.

 

Duck was stunned. He hadn’t ever really thought about that. Realistically, yes, Indrid was definitely a great asset to the Pine Guard and all that, but that wasn’t how Duck liked to think. Indrid was a person with feelings, and if Duck continued to hesitate with his answer he would hurt those feelings.

 

“A little bit of both, I guess,” Duck said noncommittally, “If you want to stay in Kepler, I’m not gonna make you leave.”

 

“So good at avoiding things,” Indrid muttered. Duck was fairly sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that, but Indrid knew he did, because he turned back to Duck sharply. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. Just that you know how to balance situations. It’s a good skill to have.”

 

“I’m not lying, you would know if I was,” Duck said.

 

“I know,” Indrid said vaguely. Duck could feel Indrid staring at him from behind the red glasses. He was supposed to elaborate.

 

“I do like having you around. You’re honest, and that’s something I’ve realized not a lot of people are. Well, that wasn’t a good sentence, but you get what I mean. And I don’t have to hide stuff from you. And you’re funny, when you want to be, somewhere between all the morbid predictions and vague phone calls,” Duck said.

 

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Duck.”

 

“What?” 

 

“I didn’t come here for no reason,” Indrid said. Duck frowned. “I saw this conversation play out a few different ways, earlier today, or yesterday I suppose. I just wanted to see what you would actually say.”

 

“Did I say what you hoped for?” Duck asked.

 

“I stopped hoping for timelines a long time ago, Duck,” Indrid said, looking back out the window.

 

“Okay, look, the cryptic shit stopped being cute after the funicular thing. Can we just have a  regular conversation\-- ”

 

“Unfortunately not,” Indrid laughed bitterly, “I’ll always know what you’re going to say. And if I say too much then everything will get screwed up. A cruel and unusual punishment, one the universe just couldn’t wait to give me. As you can tell, I really do love to talk. I’ve said more in this past month than I’ve said in the decade before it.”

 

“Sorry,” Duck said. He looked down at his desk and started fiddling with a pen.

 

“It’s not your fault. I know the universe gave you similar ‘gifts.’ Different, but similar,” Indrid said.

 

“Well now those fucking ‘gifts’ are gone,” Duck said.

 

“I know that it’s a sensitive subject, but what exactly do you mean gone?” Indrid asked.

 

Duck avoided Indrid’s gaze and started shuffling papers around randomly. How was he supposed to explain? Even though Indrid would understand it better than most people, Duck couldn’t find any phrasing that didn’t sound like bullshit.

 

“Well, okay, so you know how I have Beacon, right? Basically I got it from this hologram lady who’s from a planet that had the same kinda connection that Sylvain and Earth have and everyone but her got wiped out, so she opened a wormhole? Something like that into my brain and that let me have some psychic link of combat prowess or whatever the hell. But now Minerva’s gone, and I don’t even know if she’s alive, but I don’t have any kinda powers anymore. And Beacon got fucked up when I was rescuing you, so that’s great. I mean I’m glad you’re okay but like, I’ve just been going through it,” Duck explained. He started out cautiously, but he started getting upset halfway through and by the end he was just tired.

 

“That sounds horrible,” Indrid said.

 

“I mean, I didn’t really wanna be chosen in the first place, so I guess I got what I asked for,” Duck said.

 

“The universe loves to pick a few people at random to just completely fuck up, let them loose on their own, and then push them together whenever a crisis needs fixing,” Indrid said. Duck heard the same notes of spite and helplessness he had just expressed mirrored in Indrid’s voice. “Not fair, but inevitable. That’s what we have to plan for. They say to expect the unexpected, but the path of least resistance is so much more common. Anything unexpected was just not being looked for hard enough. Everything that has happened or will ever happen is a consequence of every little thing that has ever happened. There are beyond infinite possibilities. It’s all so much to think about, and most people never do. They have the privilege of never needing to think about it.”

 

About halfway through his self-directed speech, Indrid had begun twitching violently. Duck watched for a second, but then Indrid started digging his nails into his arms, and Duck had to intervene. He was next to Indrid in a second. Indrid didn’t seem to see him at all. Duck knew the feeling.

 

Gently, Duck pried Indrid’s hands away from himself and held them in his own. They were cold, but Duck was expecting that. Indrid had stopped talking, but his mouth was open like he would say more. Duck looked into where he figured Indrid’s eyes were.

 

“Hey, Indrid, can you hear me? Squeeze once for yes,” Duck said.

 

Indrid squeezed Duck’s hands.

 

“Okay, good. Listen, it’s gonna be okay. I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head right now, but you gotta come back to me. You gotta be in the now for a minute. Right now, in this moment, where you are, you’re okay. You’re here with me, Duck Newton, in the ranger station in the Monongahela National Forest. It’s currently… 1:47 AM, and you came here to find out how a conversation was going to play out. You got all that?” Duck explained.

 

Another squeeze. Indrid had stopped twitching so much. The occasional tremor moved along his arms, but he wasn’t going to hurt himself. Duck felt a little bit light-headed himself, oddly enough.

 

“Alright. You wanna sit down?” Duck asked.

 

One squeeze. 

 

“Can I touch your arms?” Duck asked.

 

One squeeze.

 

Slowly, cautiously, Duck let go of one of Indrid’s hands and held onto Indrid’s shoulder. Indrid flinched and Duck pulled his hand back.

 

“Are you okay?” Duck said softly.

 

One squeeze.

 

“Alright, I won’t touch you though,” Duck said, “I’m just gonna lead you to my chair, is that okay?”

 

One squeeze.

 

This time, Duck was even more tentative. He pulled Indrid lightly. Indrid followed, luckily, and Duck led him to the desk chair Duck had abandoned. He set Indrid down gingerly.

 

“Is this okay?” Duck asked.

 

One squeeze, and then a broken “Y-es.”

 

“Are you okay?” Duck repeated.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Indrid said, “I should go.”

 

Duck frowned, “What--no, I can’t  let you be by yourself \--”

 

“I’ve been by myself for over fifty years, Duck. I’ve had this same breakdown twice this week. It’s nothing new. I’ll deal with it,” Indrid said.

 

“You don’t have to deal with it by yourself,” Duck said.

 

“They don’t train therapists for people who can see the future, Duck,” Indrid said, his voice rising into delirium. “You know that, and I know that. And I know you meant yourself, but you already have so much to deal with. And no offense, but you’re not qualified to deal with my problems.  _ I’m _ not even fucking qualified to deal with my problems. I won’t make them your problems too.”

 

He stood up from Duck’s chair and walked over to the door. Duck made no move to follow him. Even though he probably knew Indrid better than anyone else in Kepler, he didn’t know enough to help him. As always, Indrid was right.

 

“Thank you for your help, but I need to go.” With that, he was gone. Duck wasn’t sure how the door even moved that fast, but it did. Duck sighed and slumped into the now-empty chair. At least he was awake now.

 

~☀~

 

Duck was almost done with his model boat. Bringing it to the station had given him more time to work on it, and he was just finishing the details on the deck. He was glad for the distraction, considering that the last time he was in the office, last night, he felt pretty useless.

 

The grey phone base emitted a tinny ring. The receiver itself was laying on the other side of Duck’s desk, abandoned from a call he had gotten earlier.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Duck muttered. He set down his tweezers and hit the speaker button.

 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Indrid’s voice came through. Duck sighed and picked up the receiver.

 

“I’m by myself,” Duck said.

 

“Not for long. Juno forgot her coat, she’ll be back within ten minutes,” Indrid said.

 

“Is that why you’re calling?” Duck asked, because he knew it wasn’t.

 

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s no big deal,” Duck said. 

 

He didn’t blame Indrid for what he said, not by a longshot. The guy was under so much stress all the time, Duck was surprised he was usually so nice. Well, nice wasn’t the right word. Nice to be around, sure, but the unfiltered honesty was clearly a problem for him.

 

“Still, any amount of guilt I can absolve, even self-imposed, I will,” Indrid said.

 

“You don’t need to feel guilty for talking, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“I know. But I… lashed out. And I wasn’t in my right mind. I mean, the existential despair is normal, but the twitching isn’t. Perhaps I need another heater,” Indrid said.

 

“There’s gotta be another thing you can do, that’s not a fire risk, or something,” Duck said.

 

“What are you suggesting?” Indrid asked. He sounded like he knew the answer, but Duck didn’t even know the answer. He just didn’t want Indrid’s trailer to explode.

 

“Well, I dunno. I mean, there’s the  hot springs at Amnesty Lodge ,” Duck said.

 

“I don’t know that I should go there. I’m… not necessarily friendly with some of the people there,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh. Uh. I don’t know any other options,” Duck said, “I mean, you probably know better than I do, but if you’re with me I think you could go. It’s better than nothing, right?”

 

“It’s a possibility,” Indrid said vaguely.

 

“Listen, I want you to be okay, but I can’t let you start a fire in my forest. I don’t see things like you but I’m not stupid. Your place is gonna burn down if you plug in any more of those things,” Duck said.

 

“Well then, I’ll make you a deal,” Indrid said. Duck frowned. Indrid seemed like he could tell. “It’s not a bet. It’s a deal. I’ll go to the lodge, if you come with me.”

 

“Now why would I wanna do that?” Duck replied.

 

“You don’t want me to start a forest fire, and I don’t want to become feral,” Indrid said, like it made complete sense.

 

“I mean, you don’t want your home to be on fire either, so…” Duck reasoned.

 

“But you also don’t want me to become feral. It’s a win-win. And as you said, I need you to act as a buffer. In fact, if we could just remove Barclay from Amnesty Lodge that would be ideal,” Indrid said.

 

“What--no, what? I mean, yeah I guess I’ll go with you but I’m not--”

 

“You don’t have to kill him. Looks like he’ll be out from… 6:13 to 10:27, to be exact,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t-- okay, so-- where am I picking you up?” Duck gave in.

 

~☀~

 

After some deliberation, Duck picked Indrid up at the campground. Indrid was standing outside his Winnebago with only one jacket on. He got into the truck as soon as it was unlocked and wordlessly turned the heat to full blast.

 

“Guess you really do need the hot springs,” Duck commented.

 

“It’s not my fault my body doesn’t conserve any heat,” Indrid said. Duck could see him trying not to shiver, and failing.

 

“My jacket’s--”

 

Indrid was already reaching for it. He put it over his arms and started trying to tuck his legs into it. Duck almost laughed, and Indrid knew that.

 

“This was your suggestion,” Indrid said.

 

“You know that wasn’t what I meant,” Duck said. He would have to get a blanket to keep in the car.

 

They pulled into the packed-dirt parking lot of Amnesty Lodge. It was 6:11. Duck figured they should wait in the truck until Barclay left. Sure enough, two figures were walking out of the lobby. They were silhouetted by the light from inside, but once the door shut--

 

“Ned?” Duck frowned, “What’s he-- oh.”

 

Ned had just taken Barclay’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Barclay laughed and gestured to Ned’s car. Ned unlocked it and held Barclay’s hand all the way to the passenger door, where he opened the door dramatically.

 

“Of course he does,” Indrid muttered. Duck barely heard him over his own confusion.

 

“I guess I shoulda known from the commissioned painting of Bigfoot at the Cryptonomica,” Duck said, mostly to himself. Indrid just made a derisive chittering sound.

 

Barclay and Ned got into Ned’s car. Duck watched as Ned started the car and drove off. He checked the clock: 6:13. Duck turned off the car. Indrid grimaced.

 

“Look, it’s gonna be cold, but the longer you sit there the worse it’s gonna get,” Duck said. Indrid opened the car door, and then suddenly he was at the front door. “Alright then.”

 

They went inside. A few people were in the lobby: Moira at the piano, Dani on the couch, and Mama in a big armchair. Luckily, Agent Stern was nowhere in sight. Still, they had everyone’s attention.

 

“Hey, Duck, what’re you doing here? And who’s your friend?” Mama greeted with a skeptical expression.

 

“Hi, Mama, this is Indrid. He’s been, uh, y’know, hanging out. We’re gonna go to the hot springs,” Duck said vaguely. Mama narrowed her eyes.

 

“Alright, well, go ahead,” Mama said, gesturing to the back door. Duck nodded his thanks.

 

They went through the door and down the short path to the hot springs building. There wasn’t anyone else around, which made sense considering that it was dark and cold outside. Duck could tell Indrid was trying not to complain. He held the door open and a blast of damp heat escaped. Needless to say, they went inside quickly.

 

There were some low lights hanging from the ceiling. Duck hadn't actually seen much of the hot springs from the inside. Luckily, it seemed pretty self-explanatory. There was an empty counter in front of a set of lockers. Next to it was a door with a frosted glass window. From the low bubbling noise, Duck could tell that was where they needed to go.

 

Indrid moved first, crossing the room to the door. “Come on, Duck, we don't have that much time.”

 

“We're allowed to be in here,” Duck replied, but he obliged. 

 

Now that they were in the actual springs chamber, it was impossible to tell that it was winter outside. It was almost as hot as Indrid's trailer, and more humid. Duck peeled off his jacket. Indrid walked up to the edge of the water.

 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Indrid said.

 

“You don't gotta actually swim,” Duck said.

 

“No, I know. But me and water are not friends,” Indrid said.

 

“'S it ‘cause of the wings?” Duck asked.

 

It didn't seem like Indrid was listening to him. Duck watched him crouch down and poke a hand in the water. The heat clearly didn’t affect him, but Indrid frowned at the ripples and made a chittering sound. Regardless, he started stripping off his jacket and shirt. Duck didn’t know what to do, so he just pretended to be interested in the wood panelling of the wall.

 

“Are you going to get in?” Indrid asked. 

 

Duck looked back at him. Indrid was standing in the shallow part of the springs. The water barely reached his waist, and for the most part, he was illuminated from behind by the lights. He was wearing black swim trunks that had apparently been under his sweatpants the whole time, along with the orange crystal necklace. And somehow, even in the dim light, Indrid’s glasses were shining.

 

“I, uh, I didn’t think I really  needed to do that, it wasn’t\-- ”

 

“--part of the deal,” Indrid finished, “Yeah, I know. It’s up to you.”

 

“I mean, I just wasn’t planning on it,” Duck said.

 

“You don’t have to,” Indrid shrugged. He waded deeper into the pool, exaggeratedly slow.

 

“Fine. But I gotta go back to the truck to get shorts,” Duck said.

 

Indrid nodded. Duck walked out, putting his jacket back on. He hurried around the main lodge building to his car. Luckily, his time as a forest ranger had taught him to carry clothes for any season with him. He dug through his trunk and pulled out a pair of blue and green striped swim shorts. They might not fit him the best, but they would work. He locked the car up and rushed back to the hot springs.

 

As he went inside, he saw that Indrid was no longer in the water. He was sitting on the counter in the front, watching the door. Duck was almost startled.

 

“Right on time,” Indrid grinned. Duck raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll wait out here while you change.”

 

Duck didn’t question it. He probably shouldn’t have left Indrid alone anyway, especially after what Indrid said. He walked through the door and started unbuttoning his shirt. He changed quickly into his trunks and deposited his clothes on a white plastic deck chair. “Okay--”

 

Indrid was already opening the door. He glanced at Duck’s outfit (or lack thereof). Duck wasn’t particularly self-conscious about his physique, especially with how much he had been exercising lately. However, he wasn’t sure how he felt about being in such a vulnerable state with a guy he really didn’t know that well. Indrid seemed to focus momentarily on the two faded matching scars on Duck’s chest. Duck tried to act nonchalant, but anxiety coiled in his gut. Indrid’s eyes skipped over his face to something on the wall, not saying anything.

 

“Alright,” Indrid said, starting to slip back into the water. He looked torn between sinking all the way in and staying wary as he walked farther in.

 

Duck dipped a toe into the water. It was warm, obviously. Not as hot as it would have been in the summer, but definitely enough to steam. Duck stepped all the way in. He gave himself a moment to adjust before starting towards Indrid. Indrid was looking down into the water with an indiscernible expression.

 

There was a few seconds of weird silence, filled only with the sounds of water moving, before Indrid spoke.

 

“I haven’t been in-- submerged in water for a long time,” Indrid said. Duck didn’t know if he should respond. Indrid kept talking. “Thank you for coming in with me.”

 

“Uh, yeah, no problem,” Duck said. He was now about a foot and a half from Indrid.

 

“I do think I needed this,” Indrid said. He looked up at Duck.

 

“Space heaters just aren’t enough?” Duck guessed.

 

“Synthetic is never as good as the real thing, I suppose,” Indrid said. He walked over to the ledge lining the edge of the basin and sat down. Duck followed him.

 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Duck said.

 

“Yes, me too,” Indrid said.

 

In the glow of the floor lights and the moonbeams coming through the window, Duck could see Indrid better. His skin wasn’t pale, but it was noticeably less saturated than was regular for a human. It was translucent, too, and orange blood vessels were criss-crossed by faded scars on his shoulders and chest and back and basically every part of his body that Duck could see. A lot of the marks were covered by a surprisingly thick layer of black and white fuzz. Indrid’s tangled shoulder-length hair was reflecting silver, and the black streaks looked like spilled ink. Indrid turned to look at Duck, and only half of his face was highlighted. His high cheekbones cast a sharp shadow, and the greying stubble on his jaw and upper lip appeared thicker.

 

“Duck?” Indrid said.

 

“Ye-ah?” Duck replied, his voice cracking. He tried again. “Yeah?”

 

“Why did you agree to this?” Indrid said, “I’m not a mind reader.”

 

“I-- well, I mean, I didn’t want you to burn down the forest, for one, but we already talked about that. It’s… I mean, y’know. I want you to be okay, I guess,” Duck said.

 

“Okay,” Indrid said. He seemed content with that answer, but Duck felt like he had to explain himself.

 

“I’m-- it’s probably weird, right? To say that. Like, we barely know each other. I don’t know that much about you, at least. But you’re like, kinda all I got in the destiny department. And that probably sounds shitty, and I don’t want to like, use you for your powers, because that’s even shittier,” Duck justified. His sentence structure started to deteriorate. “But you’re here, and I can talk to you, and I can be friends with you, and I like that, and it’s not really something I’ve ever been able to do when it comes to stuff like this. I guess… I’m scared to lose you, if that doesn’t sound clingy to say.”

 

Indrid was silent for a moment. Duck was worried he had said too much. Curse his big fucking mouth, always ruining everything.

 

“I think you’ve earned being clingy,” Indrid said eventually. Duck frowned. “I don’t think  _ I’ve _ earned it, certainly, but you’ve already made up your mind.”

 

“Have I?” Duck replied. Indrid looked him in the eyes.

 

“You’re stubborn, Duck. And I don’t know if you noticed, but your strength of will has kept me and others from many disasters,” Indrid said. He looked away. “In fact, I peeked over at what might happen if I were to purchase another space heater, and you were right. I didn’t doubt that you were, but I like to check.”

 

“I guess I never thought about it like that,” Duck said, ignoring the last part.

 

“That’s understandable. Not everyone has the time to think like I do,” Indrid said. The words would have been condescending from anyone else, but Indrid clearly didn’t mean it like that. In fact, he sounded almost bitter about it.

 

This time, as quiet fell over them, it was okay. It was… safe, in a way. Neither of them expected the other to say something. Indrid’s fingertips hovered over the surface of the water. Duck looked out through the window behind them. The snow-covered trees felt miles away.

 

The hot springs churned a little bit louder for a moment as a cloud of bubbles were released. Indrid grabbed Duck’s arm with surprising force, and for a moment Duck remembered the water spirit they had dealt with. But this was just an uneven heating situation, it was fine.

 

“You’re stronger than you look,” Duck chuckled, trying to reassure Indrid.

 

“Sorry,” Indrid said. He released the vice-like grip he had on Duck’s arm. There would probably be some sort of mark, but he would be fine.

 

“You wanna get out?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said. He flipped around and hoisted himself out of the water. 

 

Duck did the same, with much less agility. Indrid tossed him a towel from the rack and they sat down on two adjacent deck chairs to dry off. Duck was glad he had swimwear, because he would freeze to death if he walked outside in wet clothes.

 

“Thanks for taking me here,” Indrid said.

 

“No problem,” Duck replied. He didn’t mention that Indrid had already said that. It was clear Indrid was still getting a hold on regular human manners.

 

“And you got into the water,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah?” Duck replied.

 

“And you didn’t get mad when I bruised your arm,” Indrid said.

 

“No, I mean, I get it. Water can be pretty terrifying,” Duck said. A phantom pain passed through his head.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said. He seemed to withdraw, physically and mentally, for a moment. And then he was back. “I realize you don’t really know the source of my hesitation.”

 

“I mean, I guessed it was because of your wings or something, I know moths aren’t really built for swimming, but something tells me that’s not all of it,” Duck said.

 

“It’s not,” Indrid said, starting to shrink into himself.

 

“You don’t gotta dig into--”

 

“You deserve to know, Duck,” Indrid interrupted sharply. Duck shut his mouth. “Sorry. I don’t-- I shouldn’t say anything.”

 

Duck was torn. On the one hand, he didn’t want Indrid to feel like he had to talk about traumatic stuff. On the other, he didn’t want Indrid to feel like he couldn’t talk to Duck about it at all. He wasn’t good with words, so he just reached for Indrid’s hand. Indrid’s long fingers curled around Duck’s own.

 

“If you do want to spend more time with me, you deserve to know,” Indrid repeated. Duck looked at him attentively. Indrid was staring at the wet floor. “The last time that I was in water, fully and willingly, was right after the Silver Bridge collapsed.”

 

“Shit, Indrid, I’m sorry--”

 

Indrid squeezed his hand to stop him. “No, listen. You didn’t know. I tried to warn people but they didn’t believe me. I thought my Sylvan form would be enough to scare people away, but it didn’t work. And that led to… other complications. 

 

“So I thought I could save people when it actually happened. Now, I am a moth, so I’m not built for swimming. I managed to get a few people to the edge before I became completely waterlogged. And then, I was so scared and guilty, I ran. I went upstream, where they wouldn’t be searching as much. The government caught up to me after a day and a half, so it didn’t matter. I should have stayed and helped more people,” Indrid finished.

 

Duck was silent. He couldn’t imagine how bad that must have been. He didn’t know where to even start with a response. It felt almost selfish to compare the whole water-monster debacle to this.

 

“I… you did save people though,” Duck tried. Indrid pulled his shoulder blades together, like he was flexing invisible wings. “Think about it. You saved more people than would’ve been saved if you hadn’t helped at all. I can’t imagine how shitty it feels, but you did the best that you could. If you had kept swimming and drowned, then what? Then you couldn’t have helped anyone. You couldn’t help us here.”

 

“Objectively, that’s true. But unfortunately, the universe decided that I should experience feelings such as guilt and fear,” Indrid said. His shoulders were still hunched.

 

“Well, you don’t got anything to be afraid of right now, and I’m not seeing anything to be guilty about. I know that doesn’t mean much, but you gotta choose not to wallow in it, y’know?” Duck said. Indrid considered that. His shoulders relaxed slightly.

 

“Thank you, Duck. I know I’ve said it a lot tonight, and you’re going to brush it off, but I am grateful. You can tell I haven’t experienced prolonged interaction with another person for a long time,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, uh, it’s no problem,” Duck said, “And it’s not like I talk too much either.”

 

“That’s fair,” Indrid said. He stood up suddenly and tugged on Duck’s hand. “Come on, we should go. Mama just sent Dani to look for us.”

 

Duck stood up and let go of Indrid’s hand. He picked up his clothes off the chair next to him. Indrid went back through to the front of the building. Duck changed as quickly as he could. He was still a little bit damp, but he would be fine. He tossed his towel in the empty basket and knocked on the door.

 

“I’m stuck,” Indrid called out.

 

“Wha-- do you need help?” Duck replied.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said.

 

Duck opened the door. He didn’t see Indrid at first, until he turned to his right. Indrid was standing behind the counter, and half of his body was moth. A shirt was halfway over his head, stuck on his wings. His upper arms were twisted and caught in the neck and sleeve, and he wasn’t moth enough for his other arms to appear. Duck frowned quizzically, but it was kind of funny.

 

“I messed up my glasses,” Indrid said, “It’s okay, you can laugh.”

 

Duck snickered as he approached Indrid. “You want me to fix your glasses?”

 

“Yeah,” Indrid replied.

 

Duck reached for the hem of Indrid’s shirt. He pulled it down slowly in the front, until he could grab Indrid’s glasses. Gently, he pushed them down so they balanced on the bridge of Indrid’s nose again. Indrid was back to his human form. He tugged the shirt down onto his torso with a chittering that sounded almost embarrassed.

 

“Thank you,” Indrid said. He put on another shirt, more carefully this time, and then his jacket. “Let’s go.”

 

Duck led the way out the door. Dani was right outside, and she seemed surprised.

 

“Hey, Mama just sent me to check up on you,” Dani said.

 

“We were just about to head out,” Duck said, “Indrid, here, you can wait in the car.”

 

Indrid held out his hand before Duck even finished talking. Duck handed him the car keys. Indrid waved and walked away.

 

“Weird guy,” Dani commented.

 

“Well, uh, y’know,” Duck shrugged. What was he supposed to say?

 

“Mama wants to talk to you,” Dani said.

 

“Yeah, I figured. In her office?” Duck replied.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They walked quickly down the dirt path and into the lodge Dani kept going towards the lobby but gestured in the direction of the hallway. Duck went down to the room he had only been in a few times.

 

“So, Duck, you’ve found someone from Sylvain?” Mama said. Her tone wasn’t necessarily accusatory, but she did look distrusting.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Duck said. There was no point in lying.

 

“And who are they?” Mama asked.

 

“Uhh, well, his name is Indrid Cold, and he’s, uh, a giant moth, and he’s the Mothman, there’s no way around it,” Duck admitted. Mama frowned.

 

“Yeah, Duck, y’know, I think I figured that one out myself. He’s not exactly supposed to be here,” Mama said.

 

“Yeah, I know. I know there’s a whole thing with Barclay or whatever. But he’s been by himself with just space heaters, and it’s better than having him turn feral, right?” Duck tried. Mama looked down at her desk.

 

“Listen, Duck. I know you don’t mean any harm, bringing him here, but we really can’t afford to have him here too, okay? Agent Stern’s already up our asses and Barclay can’t go anywhere else. Besides, Barclay told me about him and the fight they had, so I’m not so sure about Indrid in the first place. I’m not asking you to pick sides, but just think about it,” Mama explained.

 

“Of course, Mama, you know I don’t wanna put this place in danger. This’ll probably be the last time he’s here anyway. I just didn’t want him setting the forest on fire, because that wouldn’t be too good for y’all either,” Duck said.

 

“Alright, well, that’s it really,” Mama said. Duck nodded. “Make good choices.”

 

Duck was caught off guard by that, but he bid Mama a good night and walked out. He got into his car, where Indrid was already waiting. The heat was on full blast as usual. Indrid looked at Duck.

 

“You want to know about the fight, ” Indrid said. It wasn’t a question.

 

“We don’t gotta talk about it tonight,” Duck said. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove out onto the road.

 

They didn’t talk much at all for the rest of the drive. Duck wasn’t sure if he had said the wrong thing, or if Indrid was just as tired as he was. There was a weird ache in his chest. It was like he was holding in something he wanted to say. He just didn’t know what it was. He brushed it off as he dropped Indrid off. He waited for Indrid to get inside his Winnebago. Once the door swung shut, Duck went home.


	3. living past your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visit from Indrid turns into an unplanned sleepover turns into a tragic backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this chapter is SUPER heavy. mentions of (not detailed but implied): rumors of using sex in exchange for stuff (though it is definitely not actually happening), suicidal/self-hating ideology, torture, manipulation, cold war paranoia and terrorism, nightmares  
> anyways enjoy!

“You gotta be vigilant.” “Make good choices.” “You want to know about the fight.”

 

Generally, Duck was okay with not knowing things. He didn’t make a point of finding out other people’s business. He had his little apartment and his section of the forest and he stayed in his lane. He wasn’t nosey.

 

There was just something about the way people talked about Indrid that was unsettling. Like they knew something Duck didn’t. And Duck trusted Indrid, really, but he wondered why no one else did. Clearly the guy was a loner, and eccentric. But was he really unlikeable? Was Indrid really as bad as everyone thought he was?

 

Duck was alone in his apartment. It was mid-afternoon, and he had just gotten off an early-morning shift at the ranger station. It was a few days after going up to the Lodge. He hadn’t talked to Indrid at all since then. That wasn’t out of the ordinary, but after so much contact with him in less than a week, Duck almost missed him.

 

The microwave beeped. Duck went over and pulled out his quesadilla. He knew it wasn’t a great lunch by itself, but he didn’t really care. He cut it into sixths and got salsa out of the fridge. Hmm, looks like that would expire soon. Duck really didn’t want to go to the store again, though.

 

A tapping sound came from the living room. Duck turned around. Winnie sprinted from god-knows-where to find the source. Duck saw what it was, or rather who it was, as she skidded to a stop in the windowsill.

 

“Indrid?” Duck rushed over to the window and pushed it open. A chilly breeze pushed in, alongside Indrid’s legs. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Well, a few reasons. One is that two of my heaters stopped working so I’m very cold. Also, I was bored. And then I knew that you were home, because you switched shifts with Juno,” Indrid said. Duck moved out of the way as he wiggled his way inside.

 

“Yeah, okay, but why the window?” Duck asked. Indrid stood up to his full height, taller than Duck by about four inches. Then he bent down again to pet Winnie, who was rubbing on his legs.

 

“I didn’t want to draw attention to myself,” Indrid said, “And no, no one saw me. But if I had come in the front door, Mrs. Pearson would have seen me on her way to the coffee shop.”

 

“Alright, well, come in, I guess. I was just about to have lunch, but you probably knew that. You want something to eat?” Duck said.

 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Indrid said.

 

“No, you’re good. Quesadilla?” Duck replied. Indrid nodded.

 

Duck got the cheese out of the fridge. He saw the carton of eggnog he got at the store. He hadn’t opened it yet, and it had kind of gotten shoved to the back. He remembered why he bought it at all.

 

“I got, uh, some eggnog too, if you want it,” Duck said.

 

“That would be great, thank you,” Indrid smiled. He accepted the glass Duck poured for him. “I know you’re going to ask about my heaters, and yes, I will eventually have to buy more at the store. But that means going into town and I don’t know that that’s the best idea, considering that Leo has been spreading rumors about me.”

 

Duck looked up from the package of tortillas in his hand. “He has?”

 

“Right, he probably wouldn’t say anything to you directly. But yes, I think Leo has been telling a few… less than favorable stories about me. I’m not entirely sure why. I think he thinks he’s doing it to protect you? Again, I’m not a mind reader, so I can’t be sure,” Indrid said.

 

“Huh. I mean, he didn’t say anything when I talked with him. Should I do something about it?” Duck asked.

 

“No, probably not,” Indrid said. He sat down on a barstool at the kitchen counter.

 

“You want me to go get the heaters for you?” Duck offered, “I got the rest of the day off.”

 

“I appreciate it, but I will have to face the people of this town eventually,” Indrid said.

 

“Maybe the dehumidifier depot has some? So you don’t gotta talk to Leo, at least?” Duck said, putting the raw quesadilla into the microwave.

 

“I’ll look into that,” Indrid said.

 

“So what’s he been saying?” Duck asked.

 

“Uh, you know. Nothing specific. He does know where I live, so I’ve heard ‘trailer trash’ and stuff like that. And he said I had a weird obsession with eggnog, but that one might be true,” Indrid said, holding up his glass. Duck laughed. “And then he told people I was some crazy conspiracy theorist. Not sure how he knows about that.”

 

“Alright, well, that’s not so bad,” Duck said. The microwave beeped. Winnie walked into the kitchen casually.

 

“Uh, yes,” Indrid said. Duck frowned as he pulled the quesadilla out and set it on the counter. He gave a warning look to Winnie. She flopped down on the floor innocently.

 

“Now the way you’re saying that makes me think that he said something worse than that,” Duck said. Indrid took the plate from him.

 

“He-- yes. Well, worse is maybe not the right word. More affecting to you, a person with a reputation here in Kepler, definitely,” Indrid said, shoving a bite of quesadilla in his mouth.

 

“Did he-- oh, he’s saying we’re dating, er-- that’s it, right? I told him we weren’t, but he didn’t seem to believe me,” Duck said.

 

“Uhh, not exactly,” Indrid said. He put another bite of quesadilla in his mouth, and Duck knew it was so he didn’t have to say anything.

 

“You’re gonna have to explain what you mean, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“Well…” Indrid swallowed. “Here’s the thing. I don’t know if this is what he actually thinks, but I am aware that he has told people that you are… paying for my services.”

 

“Oh,” Duck said. Fuck.

 

“Yes, I don’t know what exactly that will mean for you, I mean-- obviously I’ve put up with rumors before, and worse case scenario I can leave. But I know Kepler is your home, so you don’t really have that option, so… I’m sorry,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s not your fault,” Duck said, “I don’t know why everyone’s so against you in the first place.”

 

“Well, I… I haven’t told you everything. About myself, I mean. My history. Clearly. We’ve only been friends for a month. You can imagine that I’ve made mistakes in the past,” Indrid said.

 

“I just don’t see where all this is coming from. You didn’t hurt anyone here, as far as I know,” Duck said.

 

“No, but I think people can tell I’m bad news,” Indrid said, “Their anxieties just manifest in weird ways.”

 

“So… what? Is there anything we can do about it?” Duck asked.

 

“...No,” Indrid said.

 

“You don’t sound sure,” Duck said.

 

“As bad as you are at lying, you seem to know when everyone else is,” Indrid said.

 

“You’re deflecting. If you don’t wanna do whatever it is, then that’s fine, you just gotta say so,” Duck said.

 

“Okay. Theoretically, you could publicly denounce the rumors, but then the question remains of who I am. No one believes that I am actually a friend of yours from out of town, even though it’s technically true. Alternatively, you could say we are actually dating, but you’ve already expressed disagreement with that. So no, there are no viable options,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s-- okay, I mean, if I had to choose between us dating or the other thing, I feel like dating is better?” Duck reasoned.

 

“Reputation-wise, yes. Actual interaction with people, no,” Indrid said.

 

“Why not?” Duck said.

 

“People are going to want to know more about me, and how I got to know you, and how we got together, and then we’re back at square one,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, fair enough,” Duck said.

 

“Again, Duck, I apologize for complicating your life like this. I really didn’t think this outcome would come to be,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s not your fault though,” Duck said.

 

“Well, it’s a little bit my fault,” Indrid said.

 

“If you make it your fault then it’s your fault. You said you want to get rid of as much guilt as you can, and I’m giving you an out,” Duck said.

 

“I don’t deserve that,” Indrid said, “I’ve made my mistakes, and I need to resolve them. Unfortunately, you’re affected by them too, so I will help you as much as I can, but if I wasn’t at fault I would have left already.”

 

Duck stood perfectly still. He waited for Indrid to say more. Did he mean it? Was Indrid only here because he felt guilty about messing things up for Duck? Duck wasn’t sure why he was so hurt by that thought. Indrid clearly didn’t come to Kepler to make friends. Duck should have remembered that before he got invested in their supposed friendship.

 

“I’m sorry,” Indrid said, pulling his shoulder blades together. “I’ve already made this worse. I-- leaving has been my only solution in the past, I meant. I don’t actually-- I wouldn’t just leave. I… like it here.”

 

Duck opened his mouth and shut it again. Possible responses formed in his throat, but none of them came out.

 

“I’m not just saying that so you won’t kick me out, and yes, I think I am doing better in Kepler than I have been for a while, and no, I’m not going to disappear now as much I think it would make me feel better,” Indrid said.

 

“Shit, Indrid, I mean, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here. You want to leave but you’re not going to?” Duck replied.

 

“I’ve made a habit out of running away. But I think it would be best if I stayed,” Indrid said.

 

“...Alright, I guess. Uh, fuck, I don’t really  know what to say \--”

 

“You don’t have to say anything. About this, at least,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck said.

 

Feeling awkward, he took a bite of his cold quesadilla. They ate in silence for a few tense minutes. Winnie didn’t make any more attempts to get on the counter. Duck looked past Indrid, out the window in the living room.

 

“How long until you have to go back?” Duck asked.

 

“Roughly two hours, but you want to take a nap,” Indrid said.

 

“Uh, that’s-- I can wait, unless you don’t mind chilling in here without me,” Duck said, “Wait, what’s in two hours?”

 

“Oh, right, I didn’t actually say that out loud. Agent Stern is coming,” Indrid said casually, like he was talking about the weather and not a potentially life-threatening investigator.

 

“Fuck! Why? What does he think I know?” Duck said.

 

“Well, he thinks I’m the Mothman, and he’s heard the rumors. Oh-- hold on, apparently Aubrey is driving down right now to warn you about Stern, so it looks like you’ll have to wait on that nap,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, I can tell Aubrey the truth. She heard the rumors too, I’m guessing?” Duck said.

 

“Yes, Ned ever-so-helpfully spread the ‘news’ to her, who told Dani, who told Mama and Barclay and Jake. Essentially, everyone at Amnesty Lodge knows about it, but they think it’s funny,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s great,” Duck sighed.

 

“Looks like we’ve got about fifteen minutes until she gets here. Do you want me to be here when she gets here?” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t see why not. At least then you can back me up,” Duck said.

 

“Alright,” Indrid said.

 

It was an awkward fifteen minutes, to say the least. Duck busied himself with cleaning the dishes from lunch. Indrid stayed at the kitchen counter, staring into the middle distance. When Duck finished drying the plates, he started randomly cleaning other stuff. He put away his laundry, thinking about how Indrid was still there. He picked up the garbage that had accumulated around his apartment, wondering what Indrid meant by everything he said. By the time he heard the buzzer, he felt more confused than he had before.

 

“Who is it?” Duck asked.

 

“The Lady Flame,” Aubrey replied.

 

“Who?” Duck played dumb.

 

“Torch Girl,” Aubrey sighed dramatically. Duck let her in.

 

When Duck opened the door, Aubrey walked in, with sunglasses but without a greeting. She stopped as soon as she saw Indrid.

 

“So you are hanging out,” Aubrey said at the same time as Indrid.

 

“Yes, I am here, and yes, I did see you coming,” Indrid said.

 

“So is any of it true?” Aubrey said.

 

“Well, I am a conspiracy theorist of sorts, or rather the proof of several. I am obsessed with eggnog, as you’ve already found out. But no, Duck and I are not sleeping together in any definition of the phrase,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay, I didn’t think so. But Agent Stern does, and you probably already know this but he’s coming here later,” Aubrey said.

 

“Yes, I told Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“So does he think I’m sleeping with Indrid or with the Mothman?” Duck interjected.

 

“Well, he thinks Indrid Cold isn’t a real person. He thinks that’s a code name for Mothman. At least that’s what Jake said, he’s the only one who’s been able to read Stern’s notes,” Aubrey said.

 

“That’s rude. Last time I checked, I am a real person,” Indrid said, a sharp grin spreading on his face. Aubrey ignored him.

 

“Look, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I just know he’s gonna come here, and he’s gonna probably interrogate Duck, and Duck, no offense, but you’re the fuckin’ worst at lying!” Aubrey said. As she spoke, stripes of flame spread from her fingertips to her wrists.

 

“Yeah, I know. We’re gonna figure it out. Indrid already coached me on lying to Leo,” Duck said.

 

“So you two have been together a lot,” Aubrey said.

 

“Not a lot,” Duck said.

 

“A lot for me,” Indrid added, “But not for a regular person.”

 

“I don’t-- look, I’m not saying you’re making things worse for yourself but you’re not making things look any better,” Aubrey said.

 

“I assure you, the only thing Duck has given me is food and eggnog and the only thing I have ever done for him is inconvenienced him to spout bullshit about the universe,” Indrid said.

 

“Trust me, I believe you,” Aubrey said.

 

“Okay, we need to figure out a strategy. Indrid, do you have any idea what Agent Stern is gonna ask me?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, it’s like a video game dialogue tree with infinite options. I’ve been trying to figure out which path is the least revealing, and it looks like the only options are slam the door in his face or a very precise word choice,” Indrid said.

 

“How’s the second one go?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, if you play it right, he’ll only ask you seven questions,” Indrid said.

 

“Seven questions, that’s nothing,” Aubrey said.

 

“Not really,” Indrid said.

 

~☀~

 

An hour and a half later, Duck answered the door. He remembered the body language Aubrey taught him: shoulders back, chin down, knees slightly bent, hands at his side. Don’t fidget unless you’re trying to look bored or like you’re thinking hard about the answer.

 

“Good evening, Mr. Newton. I hope I’m not imposing, but I need to ask you some questions,” Agent Stern greeted.

 

Duck repeated his line: “No problem. Is this about that Bigfoot nonsense?”

 

Indrid had explained how that wording would both eliminate small talk and establish that Duck didn’t believe in cryptids. From there, Agent Stern would likely say--

 

“Well, I don’t know about nonsense, but yes. May I come in?” Agent stern replied. The first question.

 

To which Duck replied, “Uh, sure. I would’ve tidied up if I knew someone was coming.”

 

Duck stepped aside as Agent Stern walked in. He gestured to the kitchen table, and Stern sat down. Duck sat down across from him. Supposedly, Duck had just proved that he had not been in contact with anyone who could see the future. Duck didn’t know how Agent Stern would know such a thing, but he trusted Indrid’s judgement. Aubrey had helped him arrange “dirty” laundry in a tasteful way. Also, he closed Winnie in his room so she wouldn’t mess anything up.

 

“Here’s the thing,” Agent Stern said. Duck prepared for his second question. “Some of your cohorts are more resistant to answering my questions. Do you know why that might be?”

 

“Well, Kepler’s a quiet town. We like to mind our own business, for the most part. I mean, gossip gets around, but that’s a whole other thing. Weird stuff happens. So long as it doesn’t affect us, we ignore it or forget it,” Duck answered. Now for the lie. “I haven’t seen anything weird around here in a long time.”

 

“Interesting.” Stern scribbled some notes on his pad. “But I’m actually here about a rumor I heard. One regarding you and one Indrid Cold. Have you heard it?”

 

“Not sure I know what you mean. I haven’t been out much, mostly just here and the ranger station,” Duck said. Three questions down.

 

“It is an… unbecoming idea,” Agent Stern said. He scratched something out on his pad. “I believe that Mr. Leo Tarkesian started it, but it implies that you are allowing Mr. Cold to stay on federal land without a permit in exchange for sexual favors.”

 

Duck’s shock was not even fake. He didn’t realize it went that deep. It was one thing for Leo to accuse him of paying for Indrid’s time, but jeopardizing Duck’s job over it? Duck wasn’t sure what Leo’s goal was. Nonetheless, Duck composed himself.

 

“Wow, can’t say I’ve heard that one,” Duck laughed nervously, “It’s not true, I can tell you that.”

 

“Of course. I wasn’t personally accusing you. I just wanted to know your thoughts on it. Have you been in contact with Mr. Cold at all?” Agent Stern asked. Fifth question.

 

“I have spoken to him at the campground, and he visited me at my apartment one night, uh, when his heaters weren’t working and it was too cold to stay in his Winnebago,” Duck answered. That one had been the hardest to get right, and Indrid had made him practice it more than any of the other answers.

 

“And what transpired that night?” Agent Stern asked. He scrutinized Duck, and Duck looked off like he was trying to remember.

 

“Well, I was a little confused why he was there, and he explained it to me, and he said he didn’t know anywhere else he could go. My southern hospitality kicked in, and he slept on my couch. I fell asleep pretty soon after I let him in, and he was gone by the time I woke up the next morning,” Duck said.

 

“Alright. Now this next question may seem unrelated, but it is important that you answer honestly. I won’t judge you for any answer,” Agent Stern said. Duck waited. This would be the last question, if he didn’t fuck it up. “Have you ever seen the Mothman here?”

 

“No, I think I’d remember something like that,” Duck said. Agent Stern looked skeptical, but Duck passed whatever inspection he was doing.

 

“Alright. Well, that’s all the questions I have for you, I suppose,” Agent Stern said. He stood up from the table and Duck followed him to the door.

 

“Glad I could help,” Duck said.

 

“Goodbye, Mr. Newton,” Agent Stern said. He left Duck’s apartment.

 

Duck breathed a sigh of relief as he locked the door. He waited about thirty seconds before he walked towards the hallway.

 

“I think he’s gone,” Duck said quietly.

 

Indrid pushed the door in the hallway open. “I haven’t been in a closet for a long time. Can’t say it was a pleasant experience.”

 

Duck chuckled, and then he remembered the double meaning. He wanted to laugh at that too, but we wondered if Indrid actually meant it both ways.

 

“I did,” Indrid said.

 

“But you’re not a mind reader?” Duck asked.

 

“In essentially 50% of the timelines, you asked, so I figured I would get it out of the way,” Indrid said.

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said. He didn’t elaborate.

 

“So that went about as well as I expected. I wasn’t--” Indrid stopped. He ducked away from the window and crouched on the floor. “He’s circling the building. He’s doing a stakeout, likely for the whole night.”

 

“Shit,” Duck said. A car engine started outside.

 

“Yeah,” Indrid said. He sat down all the way, crossing his legs.

 

“Okay, can he hear us?” Duck whispered, walking to the side. He saw Agent Stern’s car rolling slowly down the street.

 

“Not as far as I can tell. He’s picking up my energy signature, though, so he’s suspicious. Luckily, I was here when he got here, or else I would have disrupted it,” Indrid said.

 

“So are you gonna stay here all night?” Duck asked quietly. Agent Stern’s car was right under the window. Duck walked into the bathroom across the hallway.

 

“I think that would be the best course of action, yes,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright,” Duck said. He heard Agent Stern’s car turn the corner. “Is he gonna circle all night?”

 

“No, just once every hour, on the hour,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, we should be good in a minute then,” Duck said.

 

They waited. The sounds of the car got farther away, and then stopped.

 

“Mrs. Pearson is going to talk to him,” Indrid reported, “We should be fine.”

 

Duck stuck out a hand to Indrid. Indrid took it and pulled himself up.

 

“You wanna play some video games while we wait this guy out?” Duck suggested.

 

“That sounds great,” Indrid said.

 

They ended up playing on Duck’s Playstation 4. Jane had gotten it for him a couple birthdays ago, along with a couple games. Duck wasn’t exactly a gamer, but he had gotten pretty good at some first-person RPGs. Indrid kicked his ass at Call of Duty, and then they took turns playing Overwatch. Indrid was somehow better than him at that too, despite claiming he had never played before.

 

“How-- I don’t understand how you managed to get good at one of the hardest characters in the game in a single round,” Duck said. He was sitting on the couch with his knees up to his chest, watching Indrid’s hands move on the controller.

 

“I mean, I think I’m cheating, technically,” Indrid said. He was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the couch with the red fleece blanket draped over his shoulders. “I just aim for where they’re going to be.”

 

As if to prove his point, he fired an arrow through some poor Sombra’s head. Then he wall-climbed up to the top of a building and fired lightning arrows into the crowd of enemies on the payload. He got two final blows out of it.

 

“Damn,” Duck grinned. He looked at the time. “Oh shit, it’s almost seven. You wanna eat something?”

 

“I already had that delicious quesadilla earlier,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, earlier. That was lunch,” Duck said.

 

“Right, three meals in a-- it’s still three, right?” Indrid replied.

 

“Last time I checked,” Duck laughed. He was a little bit concerned, though. “Spaghetti sound alright?”

 

“Yes,” Indrid said, still looking at the screen.

 

Duck got up and went into the kitchen. He pulled out a box of spaghetti and a pot and started following the instructions on the box. After he started the stove, he heard the now-familiar sound of a car engine rumbling.

 

“He’s going around again,” Duck said. A slow dragging of fabric and and then a thud told him that Indrid had slid down onto the floor again.

 

“I’ll have to quit this game,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s fine,” Duck said.

 

They sat in tense silence as Agent Stern drove around the building again. Duck focused on making sure he didn’t burn the spaghetti and getting the sauce ready. By the time the car stopped again, Duck was pulling the sauce out of the microwave. He set the measuring cup down on the counter.

 

“Are we good?” Duck asked.

 

“No,” Indrid said.

 

“What--”

 

Indrid set the game controller on the coffee table and sprinted into Duck’s bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Duck frowned and started to speak, but a knock sounded on his front door. Fuck. Duck hurried to the door and opened it.

 

“Hello,” Duck said. Luckily, it wasn’t Agent Stern.

 

“Hello, Duck. Sorry to bother you so late, but I’m sure you know about that CIA bigshot who’s been circling our building,” Mrs. Pearson said.

 

“Oh, yeah. I, uh, you got any idea why?” Duck replied. He remembered that Indrid said she had talked to Agent Stern.

 

“Well, he says he’s looking for a criminal that was seen around the building. I heard him come in earlier, was he talking to you?” Mrs. Pearson said.

 

“Um, yeah, he asked me a few questions, about if I saw anything,” Duck said.

 

“Hmph. Don’t know why he can’t leave us alone. There ain’t any criminals in my building, that’s for sure,” Mrs. Pearson said.

 

“Yes ma’am,” Duck nodded.

 

“Alright, well, I gotta go watch Wheel. Take care,” Mrs. Pearson said.

 

“G’night,” Duck said.

 

Mrs. Pearson nodded and went back towards the stairs. Duck shut the door and locked it again. He went back to the kitchen just as the timer for the spaghetti beeped, so he gave it a few stirs and turned off the stove. Indrid cracked the door open.

 

“She’s gone,” Duck said.

 

“Yes, I know,” Indrid said. He stepped out of Duck’s room and walked toward the kitchen island.

 

“I gotta warn you, I have no idea how much pasta this actually is,” Duck said. He strained the spaghetti through a colander in the sink. It was probably more than a reasonable amount for two people.

 

“We’ll see,” Indrid said vaguely.

 

He finished straining the pasta and got out two bowls. Indrid watched him from a barstool, the same one he was on earlier. This time, he had one leg precariously pushed up on the seat. Duck hoped he didn’t fall over as he spooned out what was probably the right serving size.

 

“Do you want sauce\--”

 

“Yes, please,” Indrid said.

 

Duck poured sauce on both bowls. He got out two forks and passed one to Indrid, along with a bowl. He slid his own bowl to the spot next to Indrid. Indrid was already stuffing his face.

 

“I take it you don’t eat much,” Duck said, sitting on the barstool next to Indrid.

 

“Good guess,” Indrid said, swallowing a bite that no human would be able to eat. “It’s hard to remember.”

 

“Well, you got other stuff going on,” Duck said, trying not to voice his worry. Indrid may be a moth, but he was also a man, and Duck wasn’t going to let him starve.

 

They ate quietly, with only the sound of forks hitting bowls. Winnie jumped up on the counter and tried to swat the fork out of Duck’s hand. Duck gently redirected her to the floor and told her to eat her own (completely full) bowl of food. Indrid snickered.

 

“She can’t have this,” Duck insisted. Winnie meowed in protest.

 

“She would certainly like to have it though,” Indrid said.

 

“Come on, I already gave you the canned stuff when I got home from work,” Duck told Winnie. She jumped back up onto the counter.

 

To Duck’s surprise, Indrid chittered at her. Winnie seemed to understand whatever he said, because she got down. She laid down on the floor spitefully. Duck turned to Indrid.

 

“I told her she had to get down because eating this would make her sick,” Indrid said.

 

“And she listened?” Duck grinned.

 

“Well, maybe she just doesn’t like being chirped at,” Indrid shrugged.

 

“Damn, I gotta have you around more often,” Duck said.

 

“Well, you might have to if Agent Stern keeps patrolling,” Indrid said.

 

“How long is he gonna do it?” Duck asked.

 

“Hard to say. There’s a… 32% chance he leaves at daybreak, another 37% that he waits until you go to work tomorrow morning, 12% that he leaves in the middle of the night, and the other 19% is random,” Indrid said.

 

“Any where he comes back?” Duck said.

 

“Yes, two timelines show him leaving and coming back in the night, and another has him showing up tomorrow afternoon and doing another night watch. That’s only based on how loud Aubrey plays her music, down to the decibel, so it’s hard to count on,” Indrid said.

 

“So you could leave, tomorrow,” Duck said.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Indrid asked.

 

“Well-- no, I meant, like, you wouldn’t get caught--”

 

“I know, Duck,” Indrid smiled, “I was just making sure.”

 

“Speaking of which, uh, where do you wanna sleep tonight? You can take my bed if you want, I can sleep on the couch,” Duck said.

 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take the couch. I’m a guest in your home. An unplanned one, at that,” Indrid said.

 

“You sure?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes. My spine is already irredeemably fucked,” Indrid said with a laugh. “And yes, technically I have a spine. The bone structure is mainly where the ‘man’ part comes in.”

 

“Alright,” Duck said.

 

They went back to eating. Indrid finished his spaghetti first, and Duck was close behind.

 

“Want any more?” Duck asked. He looked at Indrid and noticed a spot of sauce on his upper lip. He wondered if he should say something.

 

Just as he though that, Indrid flicked out a long tongue and licked the sauce off his lip. Duck was momentarily stunned, before he regained his ability to breathe and looked away. He didn’t even know where to start with that. Indrid looked a little bit quizzical himself.

 

“Sorry, that was gross,” Indrid said, “I’m not used to eating around other people.”

 

“No, I mean… Uh…” Duck trailed off. Indrid tilted his head slightly.

 

“I won’t do it again,” Indrid said, “And also I think I’m good on spaghetti, thank you.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Duck nodded slowly.

 

His brain was still reeling. He knew that Indrid was a moth, but separately from him being a man. The sharp teeth were just a Sylvan thing, Duck figured. He could deal with that. But a whole-ass proboscis? Duck wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t creeped out, necessarily. Just surprised. And maybe something else he couldn’t quite figure out and should probably just ignore.

 

Instead of attempting to speak again, Duck got up and put their dishes in the sink. Then he put the rest of the spaghetti in a tupperware container and put it in the fridge. Indrid moved back to the couch, sitting next to Winnie.

 

“I do believe it’s your turn,” Indrid said, sticking the controller in Duck’s direction.

 

Duck sat down on the other side of Winnie and took the controller. “Alright, well, I’m gonna ruin your winning streak for sure.”

 

~☀~

 

By the time they decided to call it a night, Agent Stern had circled three more times. Each time Duck had been hastily passed the controller as Indrid threw himself on the floor. As the night went on, it got funnier and funnier. By ten o’clock, Duck and Indrid had to stifle their laughter so they didn’t wake the whole building up. It probably wasn’t that funny, but it was late and Duck had gotten up pretty early for work.

 

“You’re tired,” Indrid said, climbing back up onto the couch.

 

“Yeah,” Duck yawned.

 

“You should go to sleep,” Indrid said.

 

“Hmm, yeah,” Duck said, squinting at the bright television screen. He felt too tired to get up.

 

“Duck, if you stay here you’re going to be miserable in the morning and I’ll have to sleep in your bed,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s fine,” Duck said, yawning again.

 

“Come on,” Indrid said.

 

He exited the game and set the controller down. Duck looked over at him. Indrid seemed to be calculating something. Then, in a feat of uncharacteristic strength, he managed to pick up Duck bridal style off the couch.

 

“Oh-- what-- hey,” Duck protested.

 

“You’re going to bed,” Indrid said.

 

Duck figured it was safer if he didn’t struggle. Indrid was surprisingly warmer than usual, too. And Duck was pretty sleepy. Indrid set him down on his bed.

 

“I don’t know your nightly routine, but I think this a good start,” Indrid said, “Do you want the door open or closed?”

 

“Open is fine,” Duck said, “I’m sorry I’m falling asleep.”

 

“It’s alright, Duck. See you tomorrow,” Indrid said softly. He turned off the overhead light and closed the door halfway. Duck watched his shadow walk down the hallway.

 

~☀~

 

It wasn’t morning. Duck knew that for sure. He heard a weird sound coming from the living room. Indrid was in the living room. Right. Duck checked the time: 2:31 AM. Indrid was nocturnal, sure, okay. But what was that sound then?

 

Quietly, Duck got out of bed. He padded out to the living room, expecting… something. He wasn’t entirely sure. But Beacon was in the kitchen, so if there was an intruder he needed to get to it. When he saw the source of the sounds, Duck stopped.

 

Indrid was lying on the couch, as promised, but he was twitching and thrashing. The blanket he had been using was crumpled on the floor. It was bad enough that Winnie had retreated under the end table. Indrid’s glasses were almost coming off, too. Duck paused for a second, and then he went over to Indrid.

 

“Hey, Indrid? Indrid, hey, man, c’mon, it’s okay,” Duck said, crouching next to him. He ever so carefully shifted Indrid’s glasses back into place. “Can you hear me? You’re okay.”

 

Indrid didn’t respond, but the thrashing stopped. He was still twitching a lot. Duck softly reached for Indrid’s hand that was hanging off the edge. As his fingers brushed Indrid’s, Indrid grabbed his wrist tightly. Duck tried not to react, but it felt like all the air had been ripped out of his lungs.

 

“Indrid, hey, you’re okay, it’s alright,” Duck murmured. If Indrid’s strength earlier was anything to go off of, it was better if he didn’t move. Not that he could, anyway.

 

Indrid made a chittering sound. Duck hoped that was a good thing. The vice hold on his wrist was looser, at least. Indrid was starting to curl into himself, too.

 

“Alright, Indrid, I don’t know how to help you, and I don’t even know if you’re listening, but I’m here, okay? It’s gonna be alright. You’re okay, you’re safe, and even if you weren’t you know I’d protect you, alright?” Duck assured him. He wasn’t really aware of what he was saying, just trying anything that sounded good.

 

Indrid continued shaking for a moment, and then was perfectly still. Not even breathing. Duck was starting to panic just a little bit. Just as he tried to feel Indrid’s pulse, Indrid shot up.

 

“Sorry--” Indrid gasped.

 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Duck said.

 

He was below Indrid’s face now, so he moved up onto the couch. He left a tentative amount of space between himself and Indrid, except for where Indrid was still clinging to Duck’s wrist. Indrid seemed to notice he was doing that and let go. Duck tried to look unaffected, but he felt like he could breathe again. There would probably be a bruise, but that wasn’t Indrid’s fault.

 

“I-- I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Indrid said.

 

“Nah, don’t worry about me. You need anything?” Duck replied.

 

“Water,” Indrid said.

 

Duck got up and got a glass of water from the kitchen. He came back and handed it to Indrid, who took it in both hands but didn’t drink it. Duck stood, unsure, until Indrid spoke.

 

“If you thought earlier was weird, I suggest you don’t look now,” Indrid said.

 

Then, tentatively, Indrid unfurled his proboscis-tongue again and stuck it into the water. Duck didn’t mean to stare, but it was almost mesmerizing to watch. Indrid didn’t seem to care either way that Duck was ogling him. He drained the whole glass in less than a minute.

 

“You want anything else?” Duck asked.

 

“No-- I mean, um, if you wanted to just, uh, stay with me for a minute, but you don’t have to,” Indrid said. It was the most Duck had ever heard him struggle with his words.

 

“I’ll stay,” Duck said.

 

It was silent in the dark living room, save for Indrid’s heavy breathing. Duck watched him from the side. He looked exhausted. His dark circles were stark shadows in the dim light, and his shoulders slumped back against the cushions. He seemed to be looking off into some distance Duck couldn’t even imagine. Duck hoped he wasn’t making things worse for himself. He knew that feeling all too well.

 

“Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah?” Duck breathed.

 

“I think you should maybe call in sick from work tomorrow? I know it’s a lot to ask, but--”

 

“Of course, Indrid. Not right now, I don’t think anyone’s gonna answer, but yeah,” Duck answered.

 

“I haven’t even told you why,” Indrid laughed shakily.

 

“Well, I mean, if you’re telling me I need to call in from work, I trust your judgement,” Duck said.

 

“Bad idea,” Indrid muttered.

 

“What do you mean?” Duck frowned.

 

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just-- working through it. I wasn’t-- well, in a sense I was talking to you, but not what I meant to say,” Indrid said, “I meant to say, yes I think you should call in tomorrow. Consider that my official advice.”

 

“Alright, well, I know you like to be cryptic, but d’you got a reason for it?” Duck asked.

 

“You’ll find out,” Indrid said. He took a deep, rattling breath.

 

“Okay,” Duck said, “Y’know, I’m not so great with words, but I’ve been told I give good hugs.”

 

The corners of Indrid’s mouth quirked up. Duck shifted so he was fully facing Indrid, sitting cross-legged on the couch. Indrid considered him for a moment, and then crawled into Duck’s lap. Duck let out a breathy giggle as Indrid got comfortable.

 

“This isn’t going to be comfortable for you,” Indrid said. He ended up between Duck’s knees, with his legs folded underneath him. It was a little bit awkward, because Indrid was taller and lankier than Duck, but it wasn’t weird. Indrid had managed not to elbow or kick him, at least.

 

“Look, Indrid, I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but it’s okay. You’re my friend, and you’re upset, so I’ll do what I can to fix it. If my leg falls asleep then so be it,” Duck said. Indrid’s face changed, from doubtful to bewildered.

 

“Is this-- is this friends?” Indrid asked softly, more to himself.

 

That was the last straw for Duck. He leaned forward the few inches he needed to and wrapped his arms around Indrid. Indrid dropped his forehead onto Duck’s shoulder. His whole body was humming with a strange nervous energy. Duck gently rubbed Indrid’s back.

 

“Indrid,” Duck said softly.

 

“Hm?” Indrid replied. Duck felt the sound in his shoulder.

 

“You know you’re okay, right?” Duck asked.

 

“I do now,” Indrid said. Sure enough, whatever anxiety was fizzing in his muscles faded away under Duck’s fingertips.

 

“You’ve really been dealing with this kinda thing by yourself?” Duck asked.

 

“I didn’t have an alternative,” Indrid admitted.

 

“Well, now you do,” Duck said, “Can I make you promise to call me if something like this happens while I’m not around?”

 

“Are you sure you want that?” Indrid asked.

 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” Duck said.

 

“I suppose I can try,” Indrid said.

 

“Good enough,” Duck said.

 

Indrid sighed into Duck’s shoulder. He seemed to be relaxing more. Duck’s legs were starting to cramp, but he didn’t say anything. Indrid knew anyway.

 

“I’ll move,” Indrid said. He pulled away from Duck, leaving a cold spot. He untangled himself from Duck’s legs, but stayed close enough that Duck could reach out and touch him. Before Duck could say anything, he said, “You’ve been incredibly kind to me.”

 

“Well, yeah, I mean, I--”

 

“No, I know what you’re going to say, and I appreciate it, really, I do. It just doesn’t match up with the version of myself I know, which is arguably more comprehensive than the one you know,” Indrid said.

 

“I… look, you keep hinting this dark past you got, and you’ve told me some, and I just-- it feels like you’re trying to come up with reasons for me not to like you,” Duck said.

 

“Trust me, Duck, I don’t have to come up with reasons,” Indrid said bitterly, “I’ve ruined a lot of things for a lot of people. Actively. Not just ‘they wouldn’t listen to me’ or some other passive bullshit.”

 

“Is that… what the nightmare was about?” Duck asked carefully.

 

Indrid looked down. “In a sense, yes.”

 

“Listen, Indrid, you can keep your secrets all you want but it’s not gonna make you feel any better. I don’t know how it is for Sylvans, but humans tend to exaggerate things in their head if they sit on ‘em for too long. If you want to tell me, I’m gonna listen,” Duck said.

 

“You won’t like what I say,” Indrid said.

 

“If you don’t wanna--”

 

“No, Duck, listen. If I tell you, you won’t think of me the same way ever again. And I just-- I need to pretend that someone likes me for as long as I can,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid, you can tell me. Even if I don’t like it, I promise I won’t kick you out, at least not until after Stern leaves,” Duck said.

 

“It’s a long story,” Indrid stalled, “It’s late, you should go back to sleep--”

 

“You told me to call in from work tomorrow, I’ll be fine,” Duck said.

 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll… I’ll start from the beginning, I guess,” Indrid said. Duck nodded. “So, I’m from Sylvain. You know that. I was the Royal Seer, as in I predicted future problems so we could solve them before they happened. It was… boring, most of the time. I was born in between most of the wars against humans, so I didn’t have to do any battle strategizing. And I was spoiled, because I was the only one-- not the only one with my ability, but the only one who had mastered it and not gone insane. I was compensated as such, and I lived in a big empty house by myself.

 

“Spoiled and bored is a bad combination. So I asked to leave Sylvain, to go somewhere new. I asked to go here, to Earth. After a lot of back-and-forth, I got this--” Indrid held up his necklace, with the chunk of glowing orange crystal. “And some funding. I arrived in the early 1910s, out of a gate in New York, and I started traveling around. I had a few minor freelance careers: journalist, photographer, tour guide, once they started opening national parks. I learned to tune out some of my foresight, especially in a world where destruction was still current.

 

“I came to West Virginia once the second world war started. I couldn’t keep up with the amount of violence, so I laid low in the forest here. That was when I taught myself how to turn it all off, although that meant turning off many other brain functions as well. Language, emotions, and sensory processing all went down the drain. In the years after, I built myself back up. I started trying to warn people of smaller disasters. I-- I told you about the Silver Bridge,” Indrid explained.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said. He was taking this all in as best as he could.

 

“Well, it might have been affected by my meddling. I called in anonymously to report the damage to the bridge. Someone went out to fix it, and they made it worse. The bridge would have collapsed either way, but they sped it up by a few days,” Indrid said, “And I told you how the government caught up to me.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Duck said, a concerned look growing on his face.

 

“It was the middle of the Cold War, so everyone was extremely paranoid. They thought I was a Russian terrorist, they didn’t even know I was, well, Mothman. At the time, I was using a scarf as my charm instead of glasses. You can imagine their surprise when they took it off,” Indrid said.

 

“Shit,” Duck said.

 

“They held me in a top secret government facility for… 973 days,” Indrid said. Duck’s fists clenched.

 

“Jeez, Indrid,” Duck said quietly.

 

“It wasn’t great, yeah. They didn’t try to attack me, at least for the first few months. They left me in my Sylvan form, drew a bunch of blood, made me do mental and physical tests. I managed to hide the fact that I could see the future, luckily. But they knew there was something off about how I talked to them,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, that’s really terrible and I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but I don’t know how that makes you unlikeable,” Duck said.

 

“I’m getting there. Around the eighteen-month mark, they ran out of stuff to do to me. They started interrogating me, uh, torturing might be a better word, actually. They asked about how I got to Earth, and other Sylvans. And I-- eventually, I told them,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh,” Duck said. What could he say to that?

 

“I mean, I… it was my fault but also not my fault. Obviously they were the ones waterboarding me, but if I hadn’t gotten caught in the first place then--” Indrid cut himself off. Duck stayed as still as possible.

 

Outside, a car engine started. Duck huffed. They had about thirty seconds until Agent Stern could see them through the living room window.

 

“Come on.”

 

Duck stood up and stuck out a hand to Indrid. Indrid took it, confused, and Duck lead him to his bedroom. The curtains in there were closed, so they could keep talking without having to lay on the floor. Duck sat on the edge of the bed, and Indrid perched next to him.

 

“Duck…” Indrid said.

 

“I’m waiting for you to finish your story before I make any judgement,” Duck said, “But from what I’ve heard so far, I really don’t want you to have to go back there.”

 

“You realize if we get caught then they’ll take you too, right? You’re a suspect now,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, if they want to get you, they’ll have to go through me,” Duck said.

 

Indrid smiled sadly. “Ever the hero.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” Duck said.

 

“And I’m the one with self esteem issues,” Indrid said. Duck raised an eyebrow at him. “I know. I’m just surprised at how calm you’re being right now.”

 

“Look, I’m not saying you should have told them, because I’m pretty sure I can guess the consequences. But I’m also not saying it was exclusively your fault,” Duck said.

 

“Thousands died, Duck. Sylvain wasn’t prepared, we were still rebuilding from the last war. The CIA sent so many troops right into Sylvain, and they eradicated most of the planet. The crystal was broken for good. They knew it was important because of mine, because they saw what happened when they took my necklace away. By the time I escaped the facility, it was too late to warn everyone. We had already lost, for real this time,” Indrid said.

 

He was starting to shake again. Duck didn’t know if he should hug Indrid or avoid touching him at all. He settled for placing his hand on top of Indrid’s, hoping to still some of the tremors.

 

Indrid took a deep breath. “I was exiled, obviously. And I was too scared to go back to human society. So I made myself the glasses, a new disguise, bought the Winnebago, and started living on the road. Any time someone seemed suspicious of me for any reason, I left. A few years along the road, I had the fight with Barclay. He blamed me for Sylvain’s destruction. I tried to explain to him what it was like there. He said he didn’t care, and that my life wasn’t worth the lives of everyone who was killed. I agreed with him. He left without saying anything else. He gets to stay at Amnesty Lodge with other Sylvain exiles, while I live in isolation. I deserve it, but, you know.”

 

Duck was silent. He couldn’t fathom the amount of damage Indrid’s actions had caused. Evidently a lot. Duck remembered how, despite being a fairly luxurious place, the kingdom in Sylvain seemed very small. And he remembered the long line to get energy or whatever it was from the crystal. There didn’t even seem to be any rebuilding efforts. Sylvain was dying.

 

Indrid shifted. Duck looked up at him. He seemed like he didn’t know whether or not to leave. Duck squeezed his hand. Indrid looked up at Duck.

 

“I know this is a lot to take in. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me,” Indrid said.

 

“Fuck, Indrid, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t… blame you, I guess? But that’s… it’s not great,” Duck said.

 

“I’ll just go for now,” Indrid said. He stood up and walked out of Duck’s room. Duck sat, dumbfounded, as he watched Indrid’s shadow walk away for the second time that night.

 

~☀~

 

When Duck walked out of his room in the morning, he expected the place to be empty. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Indrid cooking something in a pan on the stove.

 

“Good morning,” Indrid said, as if nothing had happened last night.

 

“Hey,” Duck said, confused.

 

“I’m making breakfast,” Indrid said.

 

“Thank you?” Duck said.

 

“He’s not leaving,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, alright, come on now. There’s gotta be some kinda law about that,” Duck said.

 

“Unfortunately he’s FBI, so he’s above the law,” Indrid said. He expertly flipped a pancake and set the pan back down.

 

“So we’re stuck here?” Duck said.

 

“Well, you can leave, if you want,” Indrid said. He tipped the pancake onto a plate and added more batter to the pan.

 

“You told me to call in from work last night,” Duck said.

 

“I told you a lot of things last night,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m not gonna get into a fight with you about all that,” Duck said.

 

“Yes, I know you’re not the confrontational type, but sometimes it’s easier to yell at someone than to pretend you don’t want to,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t wanna yell at you, okay? You’re not a mind reader, said so yourself, so you don’t get to put thoughts in my head. It’s not my business to judge you on stuff I don’t understand,” Duck said.

 

“There’s not much to understand. I caused the final annihilation of Sylvain, and revealed the location of the previous portal to the US government. The portal moved, obviously, but with Stern here it won’t be a secret for long,” Indrid said.

 

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” Duck said weakly. He knew Indrid was at least partially right. Indrid had done the worst possible thing, even if he hadn’t wanted to.

 

“I know you have an idea in your head of what I’m like. In fact, I’m counting on that idea to keep me safe. But cognitive dissonance will only make things worse. You should just be mad at me and get it over with,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m not mad at you, Indrid. Unless you personally killed someone from Sylvain, I don’t have any reason to be mad at you,” Duck said.

 

“I might as well have,” Indrid said, tossing another pancake onto the plate.

 

“Shit, they were waterboarding you! That fucks up a human, let alone someone with insectoid anatomy. I’m not saying you’re blameless, but you went through a lot. Held out for what, two and a half years?” Duck said.

 

“It wasn’t heroic, Duck. I wasn’t sitting there thinking ‘I better not say anything so no one gets hurt.’ I knew that once I told them, they would kill me. I was keeping quiet so I could survive. In fact, I don’t think I considered Sylvain much at all when I finally cracked,” Indrid said bitterly.

 

“You say that like it makes you sound like the bad guy. They were gonna kill you, Indrid. It’s okay to be scared of that,” Duck said.

 

“If I had died then Sylvain wouldn’t have,” Indrid said. He slid another pancake onto the stack.

 

What the fuck was Duck supposed to say to that? He couldn’t deny it, because it was true. But the realization that Indrid had clearly thought about it a lot made Duck’s heart ache. After frowning at Indrid’s back for a minute, he managed to piece something together.

 

“It’s too late to change what happened then,” Duck said, “But Sylvain is still there, there’s still people living there. And it’s not too late to make things better now. You’ve been doing that. You’ve helped us with the store, and the train, and the tree. That’s what, at least ten people right there? I know it’s not the same, but it’s gotta count for something, right?”

 

“Oh, Duck…” Indrid turned to him with a sharp grin that wasn’t formed from happiness. “You know that was you. I simply warned you ahead of time. You are a hero, Duck, whether you like it or not. And I, in a similarly objective way, was never meant to be a hero. Wins aren’t trading cards. You can’t give me some of yours because you pity that I don’t have any.”

 

“Indrid, you’re making yourself fuckin’ miserable on purpose. You’re making this a fight! I was happy just moving on, but you turned it into an argument. I’m tryna make things better for you. All I’ve ever tried to do is help you. I need you to work with me,” Duck said. He didn’t realize until he finished talking that his fists were clenched and his voice had come out way louder than he meant it to be. Indrid smiled even wider.

 

“Doesn’t that feel better?” Indrid said. Duck’s shoulders slumped.

 

“You did that on purpose,” Duck said. He wasn’t angry. He had burned all of that out in his rant. He was just tired.

 

“I’m sorry,” Indrid said, “But I needed you to be upset now.”

 

“I don’t wanna be angry at you,” Duck said.

 

“I know you don’t. But you were, on some perfectly reasonable level. Now, hopefully, you’re not. At least, not actively. Pancakes?” Indrid said. He passed a plate of pancakes to Duck, with the perfect amount of butter and syrup.

 

“Sometimes I wish you were a mind reader,” Duck grumbled. He took the pancakes. How long would it take for Agent Stern to leave them alone?

 

“I’ll be out of here before noon, assuming nothing comes up,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright,” Duck replied around a bite of the stupidly good pancakes. “I’ll still call in from work.”

 

“Are you sure? If you hurry, you could still get there on time,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m fuckin’ tired, and I don’t wanna go out while Agent Stern’s still there. People are gonna be suspicious either way, right? Might as well take a day off,” Duck said.

 

“Fuck,” Indrid muttered.

 

“What?” Duck frowned.

 

“Nothing. I just realized I was missing something in my calculations. I’ll… it’s fine. I’ll just-- I’ll figure it out,” Indrid sighed.

 

He got his own plate of pancakes, and then he poured an ungodly amount of syrup onto them. Then he got out the Mothman mug from the cabinet (with a surprising lack of commentary from Beacon) and filled it with eggnog. Duck raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. Indrid sat down next to Duck and started eating. They munched in silence until Duck thought of something.

 

“You want me drive you back, when you go back later?” Duck offered.

 

“I don’t think you should,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh,” Duck said. Okay?

 

“Not-- thank you, for the offer, but it’s just gonna make things harder. I don’t want you to risk your job over me,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, well, what if I say I’m going to anyway?” Duck said.

 

“You could enforce that, I suppose,” Indrid mused, “We might run into Ranger Divine, first of all. She’s wondering about your health and also a little bit about the rumors, even though she doesn’t think they’re true. She might think they’re true if she sees us together in your car. We might run into any number of people from town, really. A few people have sort of scoped out my RV, trying to figure out where I’m from.”

 

“So we drive to the middle of the woods and walk from there?” Duck said.

 

“Excellent idea, Duck. Let’s drive out into the middle of the woods where the only people who would find us are your coworkers. No one will suspect us of having sex then,” Indrid said dryly.

 

“I’m just-- I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m getting kinda paranoid about Stern. I mean, if he’s still here, what’s he gonna do next? Get a search warrant on your Winnebago? It’s dumb, I’m realizing, ‘cause you can avoid him better than I probably could, but… I dunno. My protective streak, I guess,” Duck said.

 

“ **Who is this Stern? Shall we destroy him?** ”

 

Duck groaned. “No, we can’t kill him, Beacon. You’re not supposed to yell, either.”

 

Indrid stifled a laugh. Duck was glad Indrid was actually smiling again, despite the circumstances.

 

“I understand your concern. But like you said, I’m much better equipped to avoid him. Really, I think I was trying to protect you by saying you shouldn’t,” Indrid said, “I know I wasn’t exactly clear on that.”

 

Duck smirked, “Finally saying what you mean, huh?”

 

“Well, I think we’re past the point of me needing to keep you in the dark. Unless I’m teasing you, obviously,” Indrid said.

 

“Thank god for that,” Duck said, ignoring the second part.

 

They finished their breakfast quietly. Indrid took Duck’s plate and started washing it along with the few other dishes he had used. Duck opened his mouth to protest, but Indrid started first.

 

“It’s the least I can do,” Indrid said, “Go call in, and then go back to sleep.”

 

It was another simple moment, a fleeting glimpse of domesticity, and it made Duck’s chest tighten. He didn’t understand why that was. He got up, though, and went over to the phone. Indrid turned down the faucet so the noise wouldn’t get picked up.

 

Duck dialed the number for the local ranger station. Juno picked up.

 

“Hey, Juno, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in today,” Duck said.

 

“Oh, really? What happened?” Juno asked.

 

“I, uh, got some kinda…” Duck was shit at lying. Indrid gestured at his stomach. “Uh, stomach flu. Figured it wouldn’t, uh, wouldn’t be good to bring that to work, so, uh, I’m gonna stay home for today. I’ll probably, be good for tomorrow though, y’know, one of those 24-hour ones.”

 

“Alright, Duck, feel better soon,” Juno said.

 

“Thanks Juno. Tell Tanner he can take my shift, the kid needs some time outta the office,” Duck said.

 

“Will do. See ya,” Juno said.

 

“G’bye,” Duck said. He hung up.

 

“That went better than about 64% of all the things that could have happened,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, we’ll see how well I hold up tomorrow,” Duck said.

 

“Not great, from what I can see,” Indrid said. Duck laughed sheepishly. “Get some more rest. You need it. I’ll wake you up before I leave,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck said.

 

He walked back to his room. The curtains were still closed, and his bed looked very inviting. Duck got into it and was asleep within minutes.

 

~☀~

 

“Duck.”

 

Duck turned slightly towards whoever said that. He kept his eyes shut, though. He wanted to sleep.

 

“Duck, I’m gonna leave soon,” Indrid said.

 

“Hm?” Duck said. He rolled all the way over, to see Indrid standing in the doorway.

 

“I know you could hear me,” Indrid said.

 

Duck pushed the blankets off himself and got out of bed. “Yeah, I did.”

 

“So, um, I’m going to leave,” Indrid said.

 

They walked out into the living room. Winnie rubbed on Duck’s legs. Duck checked the time: 12:17.

 

“Okay,” Duck said, “You wanna take some food with you? I know you don’t got much in the nutritional department.”

 

“Well, I could take the eggnog and some spaghetti off your hands,” Indrid said.

 

“Great,” Duck said. He got the requested items from the fridge and handed them to Indrid. “Anything else before you go?”

 

“I don’t think so. It’s been, uh, nice hanging out with you, even though the circumstances could have been better, and I was rude to you and kind of ruined it a little bit,” Indrid said. Duck followed him to the door.

 

“Yeah, uh, maybe we could try again some other time? On our own terms?” Duck suggested.

 

“That sounds great. I’ll call you?” Indrid said.

 

“You always do,” Duck smirked. Indrid laughed.

 

“That’s fair. See you later, Duck,” Indrid said, opening the door and walking out into the hallway.

 

“Bye Indrid,” Duck said, shutting the door behind him.

 

Duck sighed. He had a lot to think about. The reality of Indrid’s past hadn’t quite set in yet, and Duck knew that when it did, he would have to figure out how to work that into how he was interacting with the guy. Indrid wouldn’t believe if Duck kept treating him the same. Duck just didn’t know how to reconcile Indrid’s mistakes with how he was now.

 

Clearly, Indrid wanted to do better. Duck wanted to believe he was better, and he felt more loyalty to Indrid personally than to Sylvain as a whole. But realistically, that wasn’t a good mindset to have. Sylvain was counting on him to protect them, both from abominations and Earth. If Indrid was ever a threat to that, then Duck knew he would have a tough choice to make.

 

As it was, though, Indrid was fine. He was doing his best, even if he denied it. Maybe Indrid needed to examine how he saw himself too. Duck wasn’t going to stop talking to him, that’s for sure. Especially since he seemed to be trying so hard not to just abandon ship.

 

Winnie meowed at Duck. Duck looked down at her. She flopped down at his feet and looked at him expectantly.

 

“Alright, you got me,” Duck said. He went to get her canned food from the cabinet.


	4. like smoke in an hourglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting high and getting caught, Duck Newton is a master of bending the law. Indrid hasn't followed a law in 50 years, but he makes fun of Duck anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is uhhh minimal content, maximum comfort. there is marijuana usage in the first part, but it's not really necessary to the story lol. other than that just some weird energy bullshit that i made up on the spot lmao. if you've made it this far chances are this chapter will be fine. enjoy :V

Change of clothes. Rolling papers. The carefully sealed bag of bud in his truck.

 

Duck took a mental inventory as he prepared to go on his patrol. He knew a certain detour that would be secluded enough that he could smoke in peace. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get radioed while he was high. It had happened a few times, and though he had never gotten caught, it wasn’t a great experience.

 

Of course, just as Duck was getting ready to go out, Juno came into the ranger station.

 

“Hey Duck,” Juno said.

 

“Hi,” Duck replied, “What’s, uh, what’re you doing here?”

 

“I need some of the paperwork for the Howitzer. They’re thinking they’re gonna do it tomorrow, which is for the best but kinda last minute,” Juno said. She went over to the filing cabinet and starting digging through it.

 

“Oh, tight, what time?” Duck said. 

 

It was actually pretty cool to watch: a trained technician fired a Howitzer projectile into a specially cleared section of snow to cause an artificial avalanche. They didn’t do it all the time, obviously, but Duck had seen his fair share of awesome snow explosions. Forest ranger life wasn’t very exciting on a day-to-day basis, so he would take any fun he could get. And then everyone would go out for drinks afterwards. It was the closest thing to a work party Duck ever attended.

 

“Six, I think,” Juno grinned, “You coming?”

 

“Yeah, for sure,” Duck said.

 

“Really? You’ve been kinda avoiding work recently. Thought you mighta had something else to do,” Juno said.

 

“Ah, yeah, no, I just, uh, had some, uh, stuff to deal with,” Duck said.

 

“And then you were sick,” Juno prompted.

 

“Oh, yeah, I uh, was sick, the other day. Yeah, that, slowed me down, a bit, yeah,” Duck said.

 

“Alright, well, see ya later, Duck!” Juno said. She gathered up her papers and waved cheerfully as she left the building.

 

Duck exhaled a sigh of relief. That was close. He had, predictably, forgotten the lie Indrid made him tell to get out of work. But Juno didn’t seem to doubt him. Duck wondered if she had heard any of the rumors. Probably not, right? She would have said something.

 

Either way, Duck was in the clear. He changed into some less recognizable clothes (a green college sweatshirt and jeans) and left his hat on his desk. He walked out of the ranger station, being sure to lock the door behind him. Then he got the bag of weed from his car (he hid it under the blanket under the passenger seat), tucking it into his pocket. After one final glance around, Duck started walking.

 

It hadn’t precipitated in over a week. What had once been snow was melted into mud and refrozen overnight. Duck stepped carefully over the more slippery patches of ground. The sky was still overcast, and it made the green trees look vibrant. Duck admired the giant pines as he walked. He tried not to think too hard about how the trees would outlive him by centuries. That is, if nothing destroyed them first. Duck had personally had enough of killing trees, but other people didn’t seem to understand the problem with it. 

 

Aught-point-six miles, twenty minutes, and only some stumbling later, Duck reached the small clearing. He knew its layout well. A few boulders overtaken with moss protruded from the northeast half, and the rest was a mess of roots and mud. Most of the snow here had already melted and soaked into the ground, so Duck was able to navigate the terrain without too much trouble.

 

As Duck walked into the clearing, he heard a familiar voice.

 

“Hey Duck,” Indrid greeted.

 

“Y’know, I had a feeling you’d show up,” Duck said, not even looking over.

 

“Interesting,” Indrid said.

 

Duck hummed in acknowledgement. He heard dirt crunching and then Indrid was right next to him, wearing two black jackets over a grey shirt and jeans, with his black beanie tugged over his ears. He didn’t look quite so cold, which Duck hoped was a good thing.

 

“And I do know why you’re here,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Duck grinned. He sat down on a big rock that had a natural ledge carved out about three feet up the side.

 

“You are here, Duck Newton, to get high,” Indrid said.

 

“Good observation,” Duck said. He pulled the bag out of his pocket, along with the rolling papers. “I’m guessing you want some?”

 

“Any more accurate predictions and you might just take my job,” Indrid said.

 

He clambered up to the top part of Duck’s rock and perched on the highest part. Duck snickered at him. Indrid seemed to consider Duck, and he looked like a curious owl. Duck raised his eyebrows as he tried not to laugh.

 

“What’s so funny?” Indrid asked.

 

“Nothing,” Duck said. He carefully rolled a joint, trying to keep his hands steady.

 

“Here, let me,” Indrid said. 

 

He leaned over Duck and plucked the paper and bag from his hands. Duck watched as Indrid rolled it with deft fingers. Then he flicked out his tongue to wet the seal and tucked it together neatly. He handed it back to Duck.

 

“Okay, Mr. Pot Pro,” Duck said. 

 

Indrid let out a chittery laugh. “Last time I hung out with people was the 60s, Duck. I learned a thing or two just by being there. Besides, stoners tend to blame anything out of the ordinary on the drugs.”

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said. He fished his lighter out of the inside pocket of his coat.

 

“And so the ranger becomes the criminal,” Indrid said.

 

“Listen, I know what I’m doing, and I’m trained to manage small fires. Worst case, I get some scorch marks on my boots,” Duck said. He lit the end of the joint and gave it a moment before taking a hit.

 

“You’re lucky there’s no one nearby. We won’t get caught unless we draw attention to ourselves, at least. That’s for the best, because I’m pretty sure this is the worst possible situation to be caught in,” Indrid said.

 

“Thanks for the super calming words, Indrid,” Duck said. He brought the joint to his lips again, then exhaled the smoke towards the ground.

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Indrid grinned. He took the joint from Duck’s fingers and inhaled.

 

“Did you ever get your heater situation figured out?” Duck asked. He watched Indrid blow smoke into the cold air.

 

“Well, yes and no. I didn’t get new ones, but I found an electric blanket that should work in the meantime,” Indrid said.

 

“Still not as good as the real thing?” Duck guessed.

 

“I’ll manage. It was risky to go to Amnesty at all,” Indrid said. He took another hit.

 

“Uh-huh,” Duck said, “I mean, if you think of anything else, I’ll do my best to help you out.”

 

“We’ll see,” Indrid said. He handed the joint back down to Duck.

 

“See any good Ryan Gosling news lately?” Duck asked, taking a hit.

 

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Indrid said. He waved away a curl of smoke lazily.

 

“I mean, the consequences are pretty obvious,” Duck said. He passed the joint back to Indrid, who was already leaning down to take it.

 

“In hindsight, I kind of regret it. Ryan Gosling isn’t even that attractive,” Indrid said.

 

“I mean, that’s probably for the best. Billy’s probably confused enough as it is,” Duck said.

 

“It wasn’t like I was planning on romancing the goatman you enchanted,” Indrid scoffed. “I meant I regret thinking about Ryan Gosling so much that week.”

 

“Is it like, a different celebrity each week?” Duck asked.

 

“Not necessarily. Just whoever my brain decides to focus on, really,” Indrid said.

 

“Ever see anything interesting?” Duck asked.

 

“Be more specific,” Indrid said, puffing on the joint.

 

“Like, something-- well, weird isn’t the right word. Something you’ve never seen before? Or haven’t seen since?” Duck said.

 

“Hmm,” Indrid said. He lowered his legs from their folded position to brace himself on either side of Duck’s shoulders. “Well, there’s always people who can just catch birds. They just grab them out of the air. It’s incredibly fascinating and yet terrifying at the same time.”

 

“I ever tell you how I got my name?” Duck asked.

 

“No, but I think you should.” Indrid’s grin was audible in his voice.

 

“Well, I was maybe sixteen, you know, hanging out with some friends down by the creek. It was-- I think we were skipping school, last period at least. And we were playing Truth or Dare, like high schoolers do, and one of my friends dared me to catch a bird,” Duck explained, “This was before I cared too much about the environment, mind you, I wouldn’t do this now. But about a minute later, a duck came swimming down the river, and I  snatched it out of the water. ”

 

“To be fair, ducks are very low on the bird-catching difficulty scale,” Indrid said. He handed Duck the joint just as he reached for it.

 

“Okay, well, have you ever caught a bird with your bare hands?” Duck asked smugly. Indrid’s silence was all he needed to hear. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“You’re mean when you’re high,” Indrid noticed amusedly.

 

“It’s the only time I can be,” Duck said, inhaling more smoke.

 

“It’s the only time you want to be,” Indrid corrected.

 

“I feel like I’ve earned being a little bit mean,” Duck said.

 

“You have,” Indrid agreed.

 

“Aw, man, you’re turning this against yourself. Shit. I’m not meaning to be mean to you,” Duck said.

 

“It’s-- Duck, you have to be angry some time,” Indrid said.

 

“We already talked about this,” Duck said.

 

“I’m not saying you have to be angry at me,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m not,” Duck said.

 

“I know,” Indrid said.

 

“Humans suck,” Duck said, taking another hit. “We ruin everything. We’re destroying our own planet, which is bad enough. Then we went and fucked up yours too.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s a small percentage of humanity making things bad. You, and your friends, and most people on Earth, really, are pretty okay. Unfortunately, that small terrible fraction has a lot of power,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m supposed to save Earth, somehow, I think. At least I was,” Duck said. Indrid hummed vaguely. “With a sword? I don’t really know. I, like, I guess fighting abominations is that? But this is just like, one small section of the world. Maybe I’m supposed to save Sylvain or whatever.”

 

“Well, I don’t know if it counts, but you saved me,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said, “Did I look cool?”

 

“You looked very cool,” Indrid said. Duck swatted at his leg.

 

“Don’t patronize me,” Duck said.

 

“You looked heroic,” Indrid said, “Though I have to admit being punched in the face didn’t make you any better looking.”

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said. Then, with an shit-eating grin he added, “Though it did for you.”

 

“Oh really? Are you saying I look better as a classically terrifying moth beast than I do right now?” Indrid laughed.

 

“Well, let’s see. So far all the times you appeared in my window like a terrifying spectre of doom you’ve had your glasses on. I think that tips the scales in moth-Indrid’s favor,” Duck said.

 

“So I’m scary right now,” Indrid said.

 

“No, I’m saying you’re not scary ever. At least not to me, but I might be biased,” Duck said.

 

“How so?” Indrid asked, clearly entertained by this idea.

 

“We’re friends now. Like, if I saw you fly over my house I wouldn’t be like ‘oh shit what’s happening’ I’d be like ‘Indrid what the fuck is your problem you’re gonna get caught,’ y’know?” Duck said. At some point during his speech, he turned to look up at Indrid.

 

“So before you would have been scared?” Indrid raised an eyebrow.

 

“Probably at first. But then I would smell the eggnog and I would know you’re just coming back from the store,” Duck said.

 

“I suppose that’s a fair assumption,” Indrid said.

 

Duck looked down at the smoldering end of the joint in his hand. Time to go. Indrid seemed to notice too; he slipped down from the top of the boulder and landed silently. Duck stubbed out the roach on the sole of his shoe and stood up.

 

“Need a ride back?” Duck asked.

 

“No, I’ve got it covered,” Indrid said.

 

“You sure?” Duck said.

 

With a click, Indrid release a small clasp on his glasses. He flipped up the red lenses. Duck wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t what he saw as Indrid’s hands pulled away. In place of human eyes, Indrid had two sunken compound orbs made up of dozens of small dots that were somehow iridescent and yet looked completely dark. At the same time, Indrid’s upper set of wings, the moth ones, extruded from his back. They were mottled black and brown with glaring red eyespots.

 

“I’ve got it, Duck.” Indrid smiled too wide on purpose.

 

“...Heh,” was all Duck could manage. He couldn’t do much but stare. Indrid flexed his shoulders like Duck had seen him do before, but this time with the wings. He was mesmerizing, to say the least.

 

“I think you should get back,” Indrid said, interrupting Duck’s train of thought.

 

“Yeah. Right. Okay. See you later,” Duck said. He looked down at the ground as Indrid took off. He really did need to get going.

 

~☀~

 

It was late, maybe 10:30 at night, when the phone in Duck’s apartment rang. Duck went to pick it up, and heard exactly who he expected on the other end.

 

“Hey, sorry to call so late, but do you think maybe you could, perhaps, come over? And bring as many blankets as you can?” Indrid asked.

 

“Yeah, Indrid, what’s up?” Duck frowned.

 

“Well, it’s a bit time sensitive, and I don’t want to waste power, so I’ll explain when you get here. See you in a few minutes,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid--” Click.

 

Shit. Duck started scrambling around, picking up the blanket Indrid had used last week and the other throw blanket and he grabbed some blankets from the hall closet and from his bed and also a few hoodies for good measure. He crammed as many as he could into a tote bag and draped the rest around his shoulders. He grabbed his keys off the counter and ran out the door.

 

As he shoved everything into his truck, he was made aware of how little physical endurance he actually had. Nonetheless, he pulled himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. If he broke a few speed limits on the way to the campground, that was no one’s business but his. It wasn’t like anyone else was out this time of night anyway.

 

Duck pulled up right in front of Indrid’s Winnebago, even though it wasn’t a parking spot. There was no light coming through the shuttered windows. Duck started to panic. He grabbed the overstuffed tote bag and the other blankets and sprinted up to Indrid’s door. Indrid opened the door just in time.

 

“I may have underestimated the amount of blankets you own,” Indrid mused.

 

“Are you complaining?” Duck asked. It was cold inside the camper, which felt very wrong.

 

“No,” Indrid said. He took the tote bag from Duck and fished out the hoodies, layering them over his stained tank top. Then he started wrapping himself in blankets.

 

“Is the power out?” Duck asked.

 

“It’s on my end,” Indrid nodded. He was cocooned up to his neck in blankets as he flopped onto the couch. “This thing is getting old. I’m due for some upgrades, I think.”

 

“Are you gonna stay here?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, I’ll be able to fix it in the morning, once the sun makes it warm enough to move,” Indrid said.

 

“You could come to my place,” Duck said.

 

“I would so love to take you up on that, but it won’t end well,” Indrid said.

 

“You say that about everything,” Duck said. 

 

Then, with one swift motion, he scooped Indrid off the couch and toed the door open.

 

“Duck, Duck, I’m not kidding, Duck, we’re gonna get pulled over and you’re gonna--”

 

“Is that really gonna happen or are you focusing on the worst one?” Duck asked. Indrid weighed practically nothing, and Duck was a large man, powers or not. He was able to maneuver Indrid into the passenger seat of the truck easily and plug in the seatbelt. He went around to his own seat and started the car. Somehow, Indrid had already found the other blanket Duck kept under the passenger seat for him.

 

“I’m serious, Duck,” Indrid shivered. Duck turned up the heater.

 

“And I’m serious about you not freezing to death so long as I can do something about it,” Duck said, looking over his shoulder to back out onto the road.

 

“Duck, we’re gonna get caught,” Indrid insisted.

 

“By who?” Duck asked.

 

“Stern,” Indrid said.

 

“Fuck that guy,” Duck said.

 

“That’s not how this works,” Indrid said. He wriggled a hand out from under his blankets to push his glasses up onto his face.

 

“It’s gonna be fine. I’m not-- listen, I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll deal with it, okay? Just try not to frost over,” Duck said.

 

“Duck, I’ll be fine, just turn around, we have to--”

 

A nondescript grey car appeared in Duck’s rearview mirror. It flashed its turn signal once and Duck caught a glimpse of a hand waving. Well, fuck. Duck pulled over to the side of the road. The other car pulled up behind him. Duck got out of the truck. Stern wasn’t technically a cop, and Duck wasn’t doing anything illegal. Still a risky move, but less risky than letting Stern get a good look at Indrid.

 

“What seems to be the problem?” Duck asked.

 

“I can’t help but noticed you came from Eastwood Campgrounds,” Agent Stern said.

 

“Yeah?” Duck said. It was cold, he noticed. In his hurry to leave, he hadn’t gotten a jacket for himself.

 

“Visiting the temporary residence of one Indrid Cold, at this time of night, can make some people jump to conclusions,” Agent Stern said.

 

“People need to mind their own business,” Duck said through gritted teeth.

 

“I can’t help but wonder, Duck. Is something going on between you and Indrid Cold?” Agent Stern asked.

 

“I…” Duck knew he couldn’t lie. He knew the second he opened his mouth a bunch of information would come flying out. But he remembered vaguely from a preliminary law class he had to take in college that he didn’t have to answer the question. “I don’t have to answer that.”

 

“Well, that makes you sound incredibly guilty. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but you have to see where I’m coming from. If you have an alternative explanation, I would love to hear it,” Agent Stern said.

 

Duck kept his mouth firmly shut. Agent Stern narrowed his eyes.

 

“Well, I can always search your vehicle if I suspect you of a crime,” Agent Stern said.

 

“What crime? Driving on the road at night?” Duck said. He shouldn’t have said that, and he knew it.

 

“I have reason to believe you are in possession of marijuana, and I know for certain it’s not medical. I’ve been through all of your records, Duck, or should I say--”

 

“Shut up,” Duck interrupted, “I don’t gotta answer you, and if I do I want a lawyer.”

 

“Fair enough. This can wait. Goodbye, Mr. Newton,” Agent Stern said.

 

He got back into his car and drove off. Duck stayed frozen in place for a moment, before he was able to unlock his joints and get back in the truck. Once he was in, he glanced over at Indrid. Indrid was looking down at the floor. An unspoken “I told you so” hung in the air. Duck tried to ignore the tense silence and started driving again. This time he broke the speed limit on purpose.

 

“Go ahead,” Duck said, “You were right. As always.”

 

“I shouldn’t have called in the first place--”

 

“Nope,” Duck said tersely.

 

“Okay, fine. I told you so. Is that what you want? Do you want me to be mad at you? Because when it was the other way around, you didn’t like being mad at me,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t know, Indrid. Tell me I’m a stubborn idiot or something. You don’t gotta be angry about it,” Duck said.

 

“I thought it was rude to complain when someone was helping you,” Indrid said.

 

“There you go,” Duck said.

 

“If you won’t have this argument with me then I won’t have it with you,” Indrid said.

 

“I know, Indrid, I’m sorry, it’s just-- I can’t even make excuses,” Duck sighed, “I’m just fuckin’ stressed out about everything and that asshole’s breathing down our necks and I know I’m supposed to be the reasonable one but I’m running out of patience and I don’t have any idea what to do.”

 

“You’re doing pretty well, I’d say,” Indrid shrugged.

 

“How’s that?” Duck frowned.

 

“Well, if not for your help I would likely be dead by now, quite a few times over. And you resisted talking to law enforcement, which I know isn’t really your deal, considering you could be considered law enforcement, but it was necessary. So I might be biased, but right now you’re exceeding all my standards for ‘doing the right thing,’” Indrid said.

 

“So maybe it’s good that I’m a stubborn idiot?” Duck asked, the hint of a smile on his lips.

 

“Your words, not mine,” Indrid said.

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said.

 

The last few minutes of the drive weren’t so bad. Whatever bottled-up frustration the truck had carried earlier was gone now. When Duck finally parked in front of his apartment building, he left the key in the ignition.

 

“I know I’ll have to walk,” Indrid said. He started unraveling the blankets from their mummifying state.

 

“For what it’s worth, I’d carry you if I could,” Duck said. The carrying wasn’t the hard part, it was the lifting and the walking upstairs and the setting down that were a problem. Duck missed having any kind of stamina.

 

“I know, I don’t want to make your back hurt any more than it already does,” Indrid said.

 

“Come on,” Duck said.

 

Quickly, he turned off the car and opened the door. Indrid tensed and wrapped the blankets around himself more tightly as he sprinted inside. Duck was close behind. They hurried up the steps and down the hallway to Duck’s apartment. Duck unlocked the door and pushed it open.

 

“I’m guessing you’ll need some of these back,” Indrid said.

 

“Nah, it’s fine,” Duck said. But his body seemed to disagree, because he shivered. Actually shivered. Duck hadn’t shivered for as long as he could remember.

 

“For once I’m not the most cold person in the room,” Indrid said. He peeled off a layer of blanket and handed it to Duck. 

 

Duck took it and wrapped it over his arms. “I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.”

 

Indrid hummed contemplatively. He fumbled with his blanket cocoon for a moment. Then he opened the side and gestured for Duck to huddle under the blankets with him. Duck moved forward tentatively and allowed himself to be surrounded in the blanket mass.

 

“This is perhaps not the most sustainable solution,” Indrid said. He seemed to be avoiding contact with Duck’s skin.

 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Duck said. He removed himself from the blanket cluster and motioned for Indrid to follow him.

 

“Inviting me to your bedroom, how inconspicuous,” Indrid said.

 

“I mean, you could sleep on the couch, if that sounds more appealing,” Duck said.

 

“It doesn’t,” Indrid said.

 

The lights were still on in Duck’s room from when he had hurried to the phone. All that was left on his bed were the sheets and Winnie. As Duck approached the bed, Winnie stood up and walked over to him. He pet her and gently coaxed her onto the floor.

 

“So here’s what I’m thinking. You currently have most of the blankets, and we both need a lot of blankets. So we can share the blankets, which is the easiest to do by sleeping in the same bed. Is that cool?” Duck said.

 

“That’s fine, Duck,” Indrid said, “I’ll stay on my own side, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“I mean, I wasn’t, but I am now,” Duck grinned.

 

“I’ll only kick you a little bit,” Indrid promised.

 

“That’s the best I can hope for,” Duck said. He split up the pillows so there was an equal amount on each side.

 

“I know I’m beyond convincing you why it’s a bad idea, but I still appreciate how much you’ve done for me,” Indrid said, sinking onto the edge of Duck’s bed.

 

“I mean, it’s nothing. I’m just helping out. And I like having you around, even if you kick my ass at every video game on the planet,” Duck said. He sat down and leaned against the headboard.

 

“It’s been a while since people have considered me beyond my strategic merit. I’m glad I’m finally close enough to someone that they’re only annoyed by some things I do,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay, I’m only annoyed by like, two things you do,” Duck said, “And one is when you blame yourself for stuff.”

 

“I know it’s pointless to argue with you,” Indrid smiled.

 

“Y’know, I feel the same about you,” Duck smirked.

 

“Come on, you have work in the morning,” Indrid said. 

 

He pulled his legs up onto the bed and spread the blankets evenly over himself and Duck. There was a solid foot of space between them, and it felt cold. Duck knew it was just because he was cold. He should just go to sleep. But Indrid was still shivering, but he was facing away from Duck.

 

“Do you want me to--”

 

“You shouldn’t,” Indrid said. His voice cracked, which was extremely unnerving.

 

“Okay,” Duck said, “Why?”

 

“I’m not… in control of myself as much as I should be. When the heat went out, it shocked me into almost becoming feral so I’m trying to keep myself together,” Indrid said, “And before you ask, technically it would help for you to hold me, but only because I would be unable to stop myself from drawing out your energy through your skin. It would be incredibly painful for you.”

 

Duck furrowed his eyebrows. There had to be some way around that. Maybe if he wrapped Indrid in a blanket first--

 

“Don’t.”

 

“I want you to be okay, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“You keep saying that, and I believe you, and that’s the problem,” Indrid said. He pushed the blankets off himself and got out of the bed. 

 

He made it to the doorway before Duck spoke. “I’m not seeing a problem.”

 

“The problem is a lot of things. My Winnebago is my home, obviously, but when I’m here, it’s the most at- _ home _ I’ve felt since I came through that stupid gate. And being around you is like being home. And that’s all pretty terrifying, because if you’ll remember, my track record when it comes to protecting my home isn’t great,” Indrid said.

 

Duck stared at him. Indrid looked so, so tired. Under the strips of moonlight that were coming in through the cracks in the blinds, Indrid looked like he was imprisoned. Every muscle in his body looked tense, and his jaw was set but it was trembling.

 

“Indrid…” Duck said softly.

 

“I know what you’re going to say, Duck. I always do,” Indrid said with a bitter laugh. “I know basically everything you ever think about saying. About how it’s going to be fine, and you can protect yourself, and how I deserve to be happy too, and every other piece of encouraging bullshit you come up with. The fact is that I know things are going to end badly for me, for Sylvain, for everyone really, pretty soon. And the more time I spend with people, the more biased my predictions get, until I’m not predicting the future anymore, I’m just fucking daydreaming and hoping for the best.”

 

Indrid was breathing heavily. His voice was getting louder and more shrill as he talked. Duck stood up but didn’t approach him.

 

Indrid continued, “We have a saying, in Sylvain: ‘You can hope for the best but the best won’t hope for you.’ It started out as a propaganda slogan, actually, from one of the first wars against humans. It was supposed to keep our spirits high and our expectations low. And that’s… kind of where I’m at right now, outlook-wise. I’m trying to find the bright side, but things are going to go badly, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

 

Duck finally moved. He moved towards Indrid, and Indrid didn’t move. Duck walked up to Indrid and gently put his hands on Indrid’s hands. For a second, he was fine, and Indrid was still frozen, and then Duck felt it.

 

It was like his soul was being sucked out through his fingertips. Duck felt like he couldn’t breathe, and that he was dying. He couldn’t move. He could barely think. But before he could black out completely, Indrid pulled back.

 

“Duck, you can’t,” Indrid said, “You can’t help me with this one. You already have, really, but you can’t fix all of it. I’ve already caused you enough trouble.”

 

“...Fuck,” Duck said. He felt lightheaded.

 

“I know, Duck, I warned you, I knew it wouldn’t be enough to deter you but I tried to tell you,” Indrid said.

 

“Y’know, maybe I should sit down,” Duck said. He stumbled backwards until he reached the edge of the bed.

 

“I’m sorry,” Indrid said.

 

“No, I should have listened to you,” Duck said, “Are you feeling any better, at least?”

 

“Yes, but it’s not worth it. I just need to get warm again, I’ll be fine,” Indrid replied.

 

“Alright, well, I’m going to sleep, you can sleep here if you want to,” Duck said. His head was swimming. He scooted over to his own side of the bed and laid down.

 

There was a moment where everything in the room was still. Duck held his breath. It was like the whole world was frozen for a moment.

 

And then Indrid climbed into bed next to Duck. He shuffled the blankets until they were completely covering his whole body. Duck shifted to let Indrid have slightly more blanket space. The aftershocks of being drained were still wracking Duck’s body, but he felt content there.


	5. blown out of proportion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck goes to both his workplaces, watches someone blow up some snow, and goes to a bar. Just a regular weekday for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy howdy i thought i would be done with this by now but i guess not lmao. this chapter has mentions of drinking alcohol at a bar/being drunk (for the first time), but no violence or anything like that. hope yall enjoy!

Warmth. Morning sunlight. Someone else’s arm.

 

In the twilight moments between being conscious and waking up, Duck leaned comfortably into the warmth against his back. Then he was awake. The context of that warmth occurred to him. Still, he let himself relish in the false pretense for a moment before he rolled over to look at the clock. 7:36. Nine minutes before his alarm.

 

“Indrid,” Duck said quietly. “Indrid.”

 

“Hm?” Indrid replied.

 

“I gotta go to work, you can stay here if you need to, but I won’t be back until later,” Duck said.

 

“Alright,” Indrid said, pulling his arm off of Duck’s stomach.

 

There it was. That heartache for these fleeting moments, and the comfort and safety they held. Duck understood the feeling now, and he ignored it. He was just lonely. With a sigh, Duck got out of bed. He stretched, and his joints made some disturbing noises that Duck hoped were fine. He went over to his dresser and got out his uniform. He would have to change in the bathroom.

 

Duck glanced over his shoulder. Indrid looked like he was still awake, but Duck couldn’t tell for sure. His fingers were idly tugging on the edge of the pillowcase. He looked restless. Duck didn’t know if he should leave Indrid alone.

 

“I’ll be fine, Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“I know,” Duck said. He took his clothes and left the room.

 

On a normal day, waking up early meant he had extra time to get ready. Now Duck wasn’t so sure. Should he make food for Indrid? Usually Duck just made a jelly sandwich to eat when he got to the station. Would Indrid expect him to make something?

 

In the bathroom, Duck looked in the mirror. His beard needed a trim, and dark circles were sitting under his eyes. His hair was getting more grey by the minute. Worst of all, his left eye was completely brown, the same color as his other eye. That was perhaps the most concrete reminder that Duck wasn’t special anymore. Before, his eye had been blue, and faded to hazel green as he ignored his destiny, and then to blue-green as he picked it up again. Now, it was just brown.

 

Whatever. Duck didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity. He had to go to work. One quick shower, brush teeth, deodorant, towel-dry hair, put on clothes. Duck had had the routine down for years. He put on his uniform and left the bathroom.

 

On his way, he looked in at Indrid. He appeared to be staring at the ceiling. Duck figured he was either asleep or deep in some timeline. It would probably be better not to bother him. Duck went into the kitchen.

 

He continued his routine. Turn on the coffee machine. Bread, jelly, ziploc bag. Short on all of those, need to go grocery shopping. Put the sandwich next to his keys at the end of the counter. Fill up Winnie’s crunchies and water. Fill up thermos with coffee. Attempt to drink the burning hot coffee and burn tongue. Set down coffee next to sandwich and keys. Fill up water bottle. Put that with everything else.

 

Now Duck was ready to go, and he had about six minutes until he needed to leave. He went back into his room. Indrid was definitely awake now, sitting against the headboard.

 

“Alright, I’m heading out,” Duck said.

 

“Okay,” Indrid said.

 

“You know where to find everything, right?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes,” Indrid said.

 

“Call me if you need anything,” Duck said.

 

“I know,” Indrid said, “See you later, Duck.”

 

“Bye, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

Time to go, for real now. Duck grabbed all his stuff and left his apartment, locking the door behind him.

 

~☀~

 

The phone on Duck’s desk rang. He picked it up reflexively but didn’t say his work-greeting line.

 

“Is this Duck Newton?” Mama’s voice came through. Duck frowned.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, hey Mama,” Duck said.

 

“Do you think you can you come to the lodge for a bit? We got an emergency Pine Guard meeting in a few minutes,” Mama said.

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess I could,” Duck said. He looked at the clock. 1:22. If he kept it short, he should be able to get back before Tanner was scheduled to join him.

 

“Great, see you soon,” Mama said. Click.

 

Duck set the phone down. He didn’t really need to take anything, except maybe Beacon. He took the sword out of the bottom drawer of his desk and curled it around his arm. Then he put on his coat and went out to the car.

 

Ten minutes of driving later, he parked in front of Amnesty Lodge. He saw Mama’s truck, Agent Stern’s car, and a food truck that had been crudely painted to say “Crypt o Nomica.” Duck assumed that was Ned’s car. He wondered whether it would be safe to have a meeting if Stern was there.

 

As he entered the building, Duck noticed that the lobby was empty. He walked hesitantly towards the dining room. Was something wrong? Mama had called it an emergency meeting. How emergent was it?

 

“There you are.”

 

Duck turned. Aubrey was standing in the hallway. She was still wearing her sunglasses indoors, but Duck figured it was just some new fashion trend he didn’t care about.

 

“Come on, we’re all in the basement,” Aubrey said. Duck followed her to the door.

 

“Where is everyone?” He asked.

 

“Uh, Dani is in the hot springs, Jake’s out on the slopes, Moira went to the store, and everyone else is hiding out in their rooms,” Aubrey said.

 

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Mama was sitting in a folding chair against the wall. Ned and Barclay were standing just a little too close to each other and exchanging questioning glances. Aubrey clomped into the room, disregarding the tension. Duck followed her in a more subdued manner.

 

“Great, everyone’s here,” Mama said, leaning forward in her seat. “Listen. We don’t got a lot of time. Stern’s in his room, but he’s gonna notice we’re all gone pretty soon. Here’s the thing: he’s getting really, really, close to figuring a few things out. From what Dani’s told me, he’s seen the gate. Not in action, luckily, but in passing. He also has been getting on Moira’s case, which is why I sent her out for groceries.”

 

“I’ve been trying to distract him as much as I can,” Aubrey said.

 

“I know, but he’s getting immune to you. Also, he came in pretty late last night, and he was all smug and angry at the same time. Did you manage to get what was going on?” Mama replied.

 

“Actually, that one’s on me,” Duck interrupted. Mama sighed.

 

“I figured,” Mama muttered.

 

“Whaddya mean?” Ned said.

 

“Well, I went to talk to Indrid last night, and he pulled me over and got mad at me when I didn’t talk to him. To be fair, I had Indrid with me, so I really didn’t want the guy to search the truck,” Duck said.

 

“Wait, you’re still talking to Indrid?” Barclay frowned.

 

“Listen, he told me about everything. I’m just trying to keep him from going feral. His electricity went out and I wasn’t gonna just leave him to freeze,” Duck said.

 

“Shouldn’t he have been able to fix it before it went out?” Barclay pointed out.

 

“I’m not defending him, I just think he’s better off alive,” Duck said.

 

“We can’t have this fight right now. Ned, what kind of stuff can you do to throw Stern off?” Mama said.

 

“Hm, let’s see. I think I have a collection of jackalope artifacts I can drag out of storage. Maybe some Flatwoods Monster memorabilia? That’s near here, right?” Ned said.

 

“Yeah, good, whatever you can. I mean it. Literally any lies you can tell him, keep him interested as long as possible. I’ll try to get him down to you later. I’ll email you the list Dani made me so you can try and counter it,” Mama said.

 

“Will do!” Ned said. He looked absolutely delighted by this plan.

 

“I’ll help with that,” Barclay said, “And I have to keep a low profile, obviously. Also, Dani suggested that I poison his food, but I think we should leave that as a very last resort. An amnestic might work, though.”

 

“We can’t poison him, as much as that would make things easier. Even if we do, they’ll just send another agent. And no, we can’t keep killing them, either,” Mama said.

 

“So no killing, of anyone, right?” Aubrey asked.

 

“Did you have someone else you wanted to kill?” Mama raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well, no, but there might be someone else who is aware of the Sylvan form of someone in Kepler and-or my magic. I threatened him, so he’ll be quiet, and I don’t want to kill him, but I did want to, uh, tell you, so you were aware, um, of the situation,” Aubrey said.

 

“It’s that Keith kid, isn’t it?” Mama guessed. Aubrey nodded. “He’ll be fine for now. He’s a troublemaker, no one will believe him. If he does say something though, we’re gonna have a problem.”

 

“Yep. I’ll keep an eye on him,” Aubrey said.

 

“Alright, then. I guess that’s it, unless anyone else wants to say something,” Mama said.

 

No one spoke. Duck glanced at everyone else. They were all looking around too. A silent consensus was reached.

 

“Great. Y’all can go now,” Mama said.

 

“It’s been a pleasure, but I really need to get back to the Cryptonomica,” Ned said. He started up the stairs, Barclay following close behind.

 

“I’m gonna go to the hot springs,” Aubrey said, flashing a peace sign and going up the stairs.

 

“Duck, if you’ll actually stay for a moment, I need to talk to you,” Mama said. Duck had been expecting that. He waited for the telltale thud of Aubrey’s boots to pass through the door before he answered.

 

“Look, I know what this is about,” Duck said. He felt a need to defend Indrid, but he knew Mama wouldn’t stand for that. “I know Indrid’s bad news, and what he did, and I’m not saying he should have done it. But I can’t in good conscience leave him on his own.”

 

“I… I understand where you’re coming from, Duck. In fact, I see the same protective impulse in you that made me start this place up. All I’m saying is be careful. Mr. Cold has proven to be… volatile,” Mama said.

 

“I know, I’ve seen it. I’ve been trying to manage it, sort of, intercept it might be a better word. But really, Mama, he’s more a danger to himself than anyone else,” Duck said. It felt weird to talk about Indrid behind his back. Indrid could probably tune in to what was happening anyway.

 

“I suppose I’d rather you keep an eye on him than leave him to roam,” Mama said, “But trust me when I say: you should not get attached. It’s not worth it. I’m sure you’re already friends, but you gotta keep him at arm’s length.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Duck nodded. That’s what he was doing, right? Sure, he wanted Indrid to be happy, but he wasn’t in love with the guy. He would be upset if Indrid were to leave, but he would let him go. Right?

 

“Alright. Just keep that in mind,” Mama said.

 

“Will do,” Duck said, “Bye, Mama.”

 

“Bye Duck,” Mama said.

 

Duck walked up the stairs and out of the basement.

 

~☀~

 

Duck checked his watch: 5:56. He was standing on the trailer carrying the Howitzer cannon. He had sunglasses on to block the glare coming off the snow and a puffy grey windbreaker zipped up over his regular navy blue coat. The cannon technician, Greg, was giving his regular spiel about safety.

 

“--so we’ll give it at least ten minutes before we approach the cleared site,” Greg finished.

 

“Will there be any snow left on the hillside?” Tanner asked from the back of the group. He was the newest addition to the forest service crew, with a degree in zoological preservation. This was his first time watching one of these.

 

“Yeah, we’re just manufacturing an avalanche, there’s still gonna be whatever snow is left after that. It won’t be completely bare,” Greg said.

 

“Of course,” Tanner said, jotting down notes in a small notebook.

 

“You don’t gotta worry about it so much, kid,” Juno said.

 

“I’m just making sure,” Tanner said.

 

“Lay off him. You did the same thing the first time we watched this,” Duck said.

 

“I think it’s about time, if we wanna stay on-schedule,” Greg interrupted, “Everyone got their earplugs?”

 

Duck put in the earplugs and covered them with earmuffs. The cannon was pretty loud, and with his new fragility Duck didn’t want to risk it. He stood against the wall of the trailer, to the side of the cannon. Tanner copied him. Juno was on the other side, double checking the coordinates.

 

“Are we clear to fire? Over,” Greg radioed.

 

“Site cleared, over,” a voice answered.

 

“Everybody to the sides. Behind cannon clear, ready to fire, FIRE,” Greg said.

 

The whole trailer was moved by the propulsion, and the loud boom accompanying it. There was a second of silence, and then rumbling in the distance. Duck looked out to the mountains. A cloud of disturbed snow was billowing into the air and down the mountain. Not quite an avalanche. As the flakes settled, Juno adjusted the coordinates. Duck watched as the haze drifted down into the the trees.

 

“Clear to fire?” Greg radioed again.

 

“Clear,” the other technician confirmed.

 

“Behind cannon clear, ready to fire, FIRE,” Greg said again. Duck covered his ears.

 

This time, the projectile struck a huge snow bank, and it began to crumble. Everyone cheered as the snow came tumbling down to the bottom of the slopes. Duck took off all his ear protection.

 

“Only two shots this time, musta been piling up,” Juno commented with a grin.

 

“Yeah, that’s why we had to do it today, and even that was cutting it close,” Greg said, “I gotta take this back, I’ll catch up with y’all at Pine Sap?”

 

“Hell yeah,” Duck said. He stepped gingerly off the trailer. Juno climbed down behind him, and Tanner followed them. They walked over to Juno’s truck, which they had carpooled in on the way there.

 

“Who’s driving?” Juno asked.

 

“I drove last time,” Duck said.

 

“I’ll do it,” Tanner said.

 

“Yeah, are you even old enough to drink?” Juno teased.

 

“I’m 24,” Tanner said weakly.

 

“A baby,” Duck said, “Come on. You’ve driven one of these before, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Tanner said. He took the keys Juno handed him and got into the car.

 

It was a longer drive than usual. The Howitzer had to be a certain distance from any registered buildings, so it took almost 40 minutes to get back to town. Duck sat in the cramped back seat, looking out the window. Juno and Tanner were chatting idly about some bureaucratic lateral promotions they had heard about. Duck wasn’t listening very closely. Mostly, he was thinking about what it would be like to see the trees from above instead of below. Maybe he should ask Indrid.

 

“What do you think, Duck? Would you take the forestry job?” Juno asked. Duck looked up.

 

“What? Oh, uh, I dunno. My knees might not hold up to that,” Duck deflected. She was right though, Danimal’s job was sitting empty, and there wasn’t enough budget to hire someone new.

 

“You’ve been extra fragile lately,” Juno noticed, “What’s up with that?”

 

“Ah, y’know, just getting, um, old,” Duck said. His lying skills, though a little bit improved by Indrid’s coaching, wouldn’t hold up against Juno’s scrutiny. They’d known each other for too long.

 

Juno seemed satisfied with that, at least, as she kept talking with Tanner. She was a model of good health, exercising regularly and eating real meals. She poked fun at him about his eating habits every now and then. Duck took it in stride, but he envied her ability to take care of herself.

 

Eventually they pulled into the parking lot of the Pine Sap Brewery. It was a rustic little bar and brewery near the middle of town, and it had been there for as long as Duck could remember. It wasn’t a nightlife kind of place by any means, though. More of a pub for coworkers to hang out in and it wasn’t weird. He and the other rangers had been going there for years.

 

As they entered, the bartender greeted them, “Hey y’all! The usual?”

 

“Hey Amber,” Duck replied.

 

Amber was a little bit on the hipster side, but she was nice. She had straight shoulder-length red hair and big square glasses, and almost as many piercings as Aubrey. She had moved to town less than a year ago from Chicago, trying to escape the hectic life of the city. Duck had wondered if there was more to it than that, but he wasn’t nosey.

 

“The usual?” Amber asked. Duck nodded.

 

“How’s business been?” Juno asked.

 

“Oh you know. Pretty slow, since it hasn’t snowed for a bit. Not a lot of tourism,” Amber said. She handed a gin and tonic to Juno and a rum and coke to Duck. "Regulars like you every now and then. Met a weird guy, FBI he said, Agent Stern or something?”

 

Duck almost choked on his drink. “Oh yeah? You, uh, remember what he looks like?”

 

“Y’know, kinda old, wearing a suit, drives a generic grey car that looks out of place here,” Amber said.

 

“Huh, think I’ve seen him around,” Duck said.

 

“Said he was going to visit Eastwood Campgrounds, where that weird conspiracy theorist dude lives,” Amber said. She was staring at Duck like she was trying to get a rise out of him. “Do you know that guy?”

 

“Well, listen, I know someone’s been spreading some pretty bad rumors, but really I don’t know him that well,” Duck said.

 

“Uh-huh,” Amber nodded.

 

Before she could accuse him of anything, Greg walked in. “Hope y’all weren’t partying too hard without me.”

 

“Nah, Greg, we just got our drinks,” Duck said, raising his glass in greeting. Hopefully Amber would get the hint.

 

“Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Greg said to Amber. She looked a little bit annoyed that she couldn’t drill Duck further, but went over to make his drink.

 

“What did she mean?” Tanner spoke up. Shit. Duck had forgotten he was there.

 

“It’s nothing. I was helping Mr. Cold out when his heating went out, and someone said we were, uh. Y’know. Intimate.” Duck grimaced as soon as he said it. “Poor word choice, I know. But, y’know, it’s a small town. We don’t get much TV or internet. People need something to talk about.”

 

Tanner looked just as uncomfortable as Duck felt. “Ah, right, sorry.”

 

“No big deal,” Duck shrugged. He needed to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Like his and Indrid’s and all the Sylphs’ fate didn’t rest on those rumors.

 

“This ain’t your usual hangout, huh,” Juno said.

 

“No,” Tanner laughed awkwardly.

 

“I figured. You’re young still, you can go to clubs without people asking if you’re someone’s mom,” Juno said.

 

“Well, I don’t really do that either,” Tanner confessed.

 

“It’s alright. You just gotta make some friends here. Look, that guy over there looks your age. Go talk to him,” Juno said.

 

“A-alright,” Tanner said. He slid off the barstool and walked toward a guy who was sitting alone in a booth, reading a Lamplighter. That guy was the only other person who looked under the age of 30 in the whole bar.

 

“So what is the deal with that Indrid guy?” Juno asked as soon as Tanner was out of earshot. “I don’t wanna accuse you of anything, but you’ve been coming in to work late, and you took a sick day last week which you haven’t done for literal years, and you’re clearly in pain all the time. I’m worried about you.”

 

Duck looked at her, and then down at the ground. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He had to come up with a convincing lie. Something she would believe, and then leave him alone about.

 

“He hit me with his car,” Duck said finally. Really? What? That didn’t even make any sense. How was he going to back that up?

 

“What? Oh my god, Duck, are you okay?” Juno exclaimed, her face turning from suspicion to concern.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. He wasn’t going very fast, and I was on my skateboard, and I kinda, uh, fell off onto his car? So it was, uh, a mutual crash, I think,” Duck said. He was digging this hole so deep. “And, uh, he, um, helped me get home, and stayed with me until the morning to make sure I was okay.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Juno said. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but Duck couldn’t tell if she was still worried about him or skeptical again.

 

“And I’ve talked to him a few times since, to, sort of, uh, keep him updated on my… recovery,” Duck added. He thought up another excuse: “The sick day was to go to a doctor in Green Bank, to make sure nothing was wrong.”

 

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Juno asked.

 

“Well, you know, I knew you would get upset about it, and I really got nothing against the guy, he’s been really helpful and nice about everything, feels real bad about it, so I didn’t think it would be worth bringing up,” Duck said.

 

“His insurance is covering it though, right?” Juno asked.

 

“Uh, yeah, for sure. I’m not an idiot,” Duck said.

 

“Well, you skateboarded into this guy’s car, so,” Juno said, sipping her drink.

 

“Look, I didn’t say it was a good thing that happened,” Duck protested, “I just said it wasn’t worth making a big deal out of.”

 

“Is he cute?” Juno asked.

 

“Is he--what? Cute? Why-- I already said we aren’t together, you know that--”

 

“I asked if he’s cute, not if you’re together. I don’t think the rumors are true, because I know you wouldn’t risk your job like that. Plus, I looked, and he does have a permit,” Juno said. Duck tried not to look surprised. Indrid must have slipped it in that night he came to the station.

 

“Well, yeah, I wasn’t gonna let him hit me with a car and then not have a permit at the same time,” Duck said.

 

“Fair enough,” Juno said, “But you never answered my question.”

 

Duck took a deep swig of his drink. It tasted a little more potent than he remembered. “I mean, I don’t think you would think he’s cute.”

 

“Well, I don’t think any of the guys you’ve ever dated are cute,” Juno said.

 

“Okay, there’s a line between being a lesbian and bullying me, and you have every right to cross it. I have the worst taste in men. But like, I dunno, I haven’t really thought about him like that,” Duck said.

 

Now that he was, though, it was like he threw that particular can of worms on the ground and it exploded. Was Indrid cute? Shit. He wasn’t bad to look at, by any means. Interesting, for sure, with the teeth and the cheekbones and the hair and the tongue and huh, maybe Indrid was pretty good-looking. Duck frowned and took another long drink.

 

“Aw shit, now you’re really going through it, huh?” Juno grinned.

 

“I mean, fuck, I dunno. He’s got a good jawline, sharp cheekbones, but he’s real skinny. He’s… greasy, that’s a good word. But he’s tall, taller than me, so that’s… something,” Duck shrugged.

 

“He wears those weird glasses too, right?” Juno asked.

 

“Uh, yeah, he says they’re for light sensitivity,” Duck said vaguely.

 

“So you’ve talked about other stuff,” Juno said.

 

“I--well, small talk, yeah, Juno, it’s not like I show up to his trailer like ‘give me your insurance information’ and then leave,” Duck said.

 

“Of course, ‘cause you’re such a gentleman,” Juno said, swishing the ice in her glass around.

 

“Are you saying I like him?” Duck asked.

 

“I’m saying you talk about him an awful lot for ‘barely knowing him,’” Juno said.

 

“Well, even if I did like him, it wouldn’t be a good idea ‘cause of all the rumors and stuff. I can’t lose my fuckin’ job over some guy passing through,” Duck said.

 

“Who hit you with his car,” Juno reminded.

 

“Exactly,” Duck said. He went to take another drink, but his glass was empty. He ordered another without even thinking about it.

 

~☀~

 

Duck was fumbling with the keys to his apartment. Before he could figure it out, the door swung open. Indrid was standing there, his hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing one of Duck’s sweaters, with a knowing look on his face. He smelled like Duck’s body wash.

 

“ You’re still here  .”

 

“You’re drunk,” Indrid replied.

 

“Is that-- yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually,” Duck said. Indrid stepped aside as Duck entered.

 

“You haven’t had alcohol since you lost your abilities,” Indrid said, shutting the door.

 

“You’re so smart,” Duck said. He set his keys on the counter and hung his coat up on the hook.

 

“Well, I mean, I was just sort of connecting the dots, but, um, thank you,” Indrid said, “Great lying, by the way.”

 

“Were you spying on me?” Duck accused jokingly, leaning on the counter. Vague memories of his conversation with Juno made themselves known as he looked at Indrid.

 

“I-- no, but I wanted to make sure you would make it home,” Indrid said. Some echo of a feeling breezed through Duck’s chest, replacing the oxygen that was there.

 

“Are you gonna stay here longer?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, I don’t-- I was waiting for you to come home, to ask about that, but I don’t think now is a good time,” Indrid said.

 

“What? You can stay. Yeah, you should. Better than your stupid trailer,” Duck said.

 

“Okay, well, it’s not stupid-- nevermind. You need to go to bed,” Indrid said.

 

“That is a great idea. Good thinking,” Duck said. He shuffled towards his bedroom. Indrid followed him.

 

“I promise I’ll be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow,” Indrid said, leaning on the doorframe. Duck turned to him with a frown.

 

“Why’s that?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, I mean, I’ve been here for a while, and you weren’t expecting me to be here when you came back, so I figured I should probably leave,” Indrid said, “And now you’re going to tell me I can stay, which is very kind of you, but I shouldn’t leave my Winnebago alone for too long, someone is going to try to get into it.”

 

“You are staying for tonight though, right?” Duck said.

 

“I-- I guess I could. It’s not in any immediate danger,” Indrid said.

 

“I don’t want you to freeze to death,” Duck said.

 

“I appreciate that,” Indrid smiled, “Go to sleep. You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

 

Duck groaned. “I hate being old.”

 

“You’ll get used to it,” Indrid said.

 

Duck sat down on the edge of his bed. The ceiling light was off, but the lamp on the nightstand was on. In the soft glow, towering over Duck, Indrid looked very cozy. Duck was more cognizant now of the fact that Indrid was wearing his clothes. The sweater was baggy and yet the arms were too short. The sweatpants hung low on his hips and still didn’t cover his ankles. Duck considered him for a moment. Indrid was waiting for something.

 

“Do you want to sleep in here?” Duck asked.

 

“I shouldn’t,” Indrid said, just a little bit too fast.

 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing. It’s a big bed,” Duck said.

 

“I’ve already made a habit of crashing in your apartment, I can’t take your bed too,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, offer’s open. I know you’re pretty nocturnal, but I’m not going anywhere,” Duck said.

 

“Goodnight, Duck,” Indrid smiled. He left the room, leaving the door open a crack.


	6. juxtapose your heart with the way things come to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck is dead, probably. Indrid brings him back to life with the power of love. And then Indrid is... well. You'll have to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright yall... this isnt too long but its got some real plot in it finally so 👀 also duck and indrid be transed gendered

Head pounding. Nausea. Too-bright light.

 

Duck woke up alone and miserable. The two weren’t related, but he felt them at the same time. As soon as he opened his eyes, the blinding sunlight coming through the cracks in the shutters stabbed him in the brain. He felt like he was getting hit in the head with a sledgehammer. Damn, was this what a hangover was?

 

With a groan, Duck rolled over. He squinted at his nightstand. The digital alarm clock said 9:08 and there was a glass of water and some aspirin. There was also a novelty rubber duck sticky note next to the pills, but Duck was in no state to be reading anything. He slowly sat up, wincing and shutting his eyes. Another wave of nausea washed over him.

 

“Fuck,” Duck muttered. He dragged the blanket off himself and it fell in a heap on the floor. Duck couldn’t bring himself to care. He took the aspirin and downed the whole glass of water in one go. At least he didn’t have to go into work until later.

 

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Duck picked up the note. It took him a few tries, but he managed to read:

 

_ I have to go. By the time you read this, you will have already figured that out, but I didn’t want you to think I was just leaving for no reason. I had to stop some vandals on their way to my Winnebago. I’ll call you after you get back from the grocery store. -Indrid _

_ PS: please get eggnog _

 

Fuck. Duck really did need to go to the store. But he had been avoiding Leo for so long, and he knew it would be weird. And he could barely move as it was. But if Indrid said Duck was going, Duck would go.

 

It was a slow process. Duck spent another half-hour in bed, grumbling about his stupid weak body. He used to be able to drink a lot more without any problems the day after. Now he was probably dying of alcohol poisoning. He’d only had, like, five drinks. That was nothing. Juno used to take bets on how many shots he could do in one night. Granted, that was a few years ago, but a couple rum and cokes shouldn’t ruin him like this.

 

When Duck was finally able to push himself into the bathroom, he threw up twice. He didn’t have anything in his stomach, but the acid burned his throat. He brushed his teeth extra hard to get the the taste out. Then he undressed from his work-casual attire that he hadn’t taken off the night before and got into the shower. The warm water helped a little bit, at least for his headache.

 

Eventually, Duck made it to the kitchen. He looked in the fridge: practically nothing was in there. Duck finished the last of the shredded cheese and bread to make a weak grilled cheese sandwich. It tasted about as good as Duck felt. He pushed down another wave of nausea.

 

When he ran out of ways to stall, he sighed and went over to the fridge. He needed to make a real grocery list. He grabbed a notepad off the kitchen table and started writing things on it. Bread, cheese, salsa, milk, coffee, pasta. Indrid wanted eggnog. Duck should get more snacks that he could force Indrid to take next time he came over. As he wrote everything down, the lines on the paper filled up and and he scribbled more things in the margins. Damn, he really needed to go to the store.

 

Another glass of water and Duck was ready to go. He put on a pair of sunglasses and tried to close all doors gently. He felt bad for all the times he had said hangovers weren’t that bad. Duck was never going to drink again. He got into his car and drove the three blocks to the store. He couldn’t walk with his head pounding like this, and he wouldn’t be able to carry all the bags back anyway.

 

The bell over the door jingled as Duck walked through it. He winced at the noise. Leo looked up from his book.

 

“Hey, Duck, what can I do for ya today?” Leo greeted.

 

“Hey Leo,” Duck said, “I gotta get a bunch of stuff, been super busy lately and never had time to stop by.”

 

“Yeah, Juno told me about the accident,” Leo said.

 

“Accident?” Duck frowned.

 

“With Indrid,” Leo said.

 

“Oh, oh yeah, thought you meant, like, last night or something. Yeah, no, I’m, uh, just finishing up all that paperwork, so, uh, yeah,” Duck said.

 

“Listen, Duck, I’m sorry about, uh, the rumors and all that. I didn’t-- I didn’t know how bad they would get, but I did start a few of them based purely on speculation, so that’s, uh, my bad,” Leo apologized.

 

“It’s no big deal,” Duck waved it off, “Was kind of a shock to hear, but, y’know, Indrid’s been a good sport about it.”

 

“Yeah, well, if you see him, tell him I got a crate of eggnog with his name on it,” Leo said.

 

“Actually, um, I can take that off your hands, I was gonna drop by his place later anyways,” Duck said.

 

“Oh really?” Leo raised his eyebrows.

 

“Man, Juno’s really on my case about this, huh. She tell you all of what I said last night?” Duck groaned.

 

“The important bits, yeah,” Leo said.

 

“Look, I’m not-- I’m not into him or anything. It’s a proximity thing. I don’t get to know a whole lot of new people, so I see a guy I don’t know and it’s like, hey, I guess he’s cute-- y’know what, no, I’m not having this conversation,” Duck said. Leo looked at him, clearly entertained by his floundering.

 

“I’m not saying anything,” Leo said, raising his hands in mock-surrender.

 

“Well, see, you’re looking like you’re gonna say something,” Duck said, “And based on the rumors you already started, I’m not so sure you should say it.”

 

“I really am sorry about all that, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Leo said.

 

“Nah, we’re good. I know things get kinda boring sometimes, and speculation’s all you got,” Duck said. Really, no one had bothered him about it except for Agent Stern and Amber. Also, he really didn’t want to hear any more noise ever again, so he was pushing the conversation along.

 

“Alright, well, I’ll go get the nog while you get your stuff,” Leo said. Duck nodded as Leo went into the storeroom.

 

Duck walked through the aisles with a purpose. He knew where everything on his list was and he wasn’t going to spend any more time in Leo’s store than he had to. The green plastic basket was full and heavy as Duck lifted it onto the checkout counter.

 

“Wow, big haul, huh?” Leo commented.

 

“Yeah, like I said, haven’t had time to stock up,” Duck said. 

 

“Well, this should last you the rest of winter,” Leo laughed as he scanned the items.

 

“Hopefully,” Duck said with a pained smile.

 

The silence that followed was probably awkward, but Duck was trying too hard to stay upright to notice. He stared at the fresh wood laminate that made up the counter. It was darker than before, or maybe it had just been faded and scratched before. This new counter was glossy enough to reflect the fancy LED ceiling lights directly into Duck’s retinas.

 

“That’ll be all for you?” Leo asked.

 

“Yup,” Duck said.

 

Leo told him his total and Duck paid accordingly. It was all muscle memory at that point. Leo could have robbed him blind and Duck would not have been able to stop him. Leo put Duck’s receipt in one of the paper bags lined up on the counter and gestured for Duck to wait a second. He bent down and picked up a box of eggnog.

 

“Need any help taking these out?” Leo asked.

 

“Nah, I’ll get it,” Duck said. He most definitely would not be able to do that, but if he had to be around another person any longer he would die.

 

“If you say so,” Leo said.

 

Duck looked over the six bags and one box confronting him. How should he do this? After a moment of calculation, Duck put four of the bags on top of the box. Then he hooked the remaining two bags over his wrists and picked up the box. It was about as heavy as he expected, as in very heavy. Duck missed having extra strength. He made his way precariously out to his car. It was at that point he realized he didn’t have any hands to open the back door with.

 

“How do you always manage to surprise me?” Indrid said, standing behind Duck. Duck recoiled and nearly dropped everything. Indrid reached out to steady the tipping bags.

 

“Fuck, man, you gotta stop, you were doing so good with not scaring the shit out of me,” Duck said.

 

“Maybe if you stop picking the dumbest possible way to do things,” Indrid said.

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said.

 

“Here--” 

 

Indrid took the bags off the top of the box and opened the back door of the truck. He set the bags down gently and took the box from Duck. Duck put the last two bags in. It was a tight fit, but it would work.

 

“So I really was so dumb I made you come here early,” Duck said, shutting the door.

 

“Would you rather I let you throw a bunch of groceries on the ground?” Indrid asked.

 

“You just care about your eggnog,” Duck said.

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny such accusations,” Indrid said, a small smile forming on his face.

 

“Get in the car,” Duck sighed. Indrid smiled fully and went around to the passenger door.

 

Duck turned on the truck and turned up the heater wordlessly. He felt extra nauseous from it, but whatever. He was probably going to feel nauseous all the time forever now.

 

“So a few things,” Indrid started.

 

“Besides making fun of a dying man?” Duck asked as he drove onto the main road.

 

“That’s one of the things. Once I secured the situation with my trailer, I realized that maybe it would be bad to leave you alone for your first ever hangover. You’re handling it fairly well, I would say,” Indrid said. Duck grimaced. “And I also wanted to have a sober discussion with you about some things that I don’t think you realized you said.”

 

“Fuck, did I say something when I was drunk?” Duck panicked.

 

“Not-- not anything bad, um, per se,” Indrid assured him.

 

Oh shit. God dammit. Fuck. Sometimes Duck wished that someone put fucking tape over his mouth so he could stop saying the first thing that came to mind. Especially when it came to Indrid. Indrid was gonna ask if Duck actually thought he was attractive and Duck would not be able to come up with a balanced answer and he would have to leave the country or maybe just disintegrate on the spot. He felt like he could if he concentrated too hard.

 

“O-okay,” Duck said finally. 

 

He parked the truck in his regular spot and turned it off. Indrid got out first, opening the back door on his side. Duck opened his own side and surveyed the bags.

 

“You’re carrying the nog,” Duck said. 

 

Indrid did so without complaint, grabbing a bag as well. Duck picked up the remaining bags and shut the door. He watched as Indrid carefully balanced the box on his arm so he could open the door to the lobby. Unsurprisingly, Indrid was much more successful than Duck would have been. They went up the stairs, and Indrid pulled out a key and unlocked the apartment door.

 

“I know, I should have asked, but it’s better than coming in through the window,” Indrid said.

 

“I… yeah,” Duck said. He didn’t exactly have anyone else who would need the key.

 

They went inside, and Duck started putting the groceries away. Indrid helped a little bit, putting things in the fridge. Duck focused on finishing his task, but as he closed the spice cabinet door he saw Indrid standing hesitantly next to the case of eggnog. He seemed to be zoning out. Duck figured he was looking at the timelines.

 

“Can I leave these here?” Indrid asked suddenly, snapping out of whatever trance he had entered.

 

“Uh, yeah, sure, I don’t know if there’s enough room in the fridge but we can move some stuff around,” Duck said, “Did you get your electricity figured out?”

 

“Oh, yes, that was part of what I was doing last night,” Indrid said vaguely. He started taking the eggnog out of the box.

 

“That’s good,” Duck said. He opened the fridge and pushed the eggs to the side. If he fit them in real tight, he could probably get about eight cartons on the middle shelf. He grabbed a few of the ones Indrid had already unpacked and started cramming.

 

“Hey Duck?” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah?” Duck replied, fitting two cartons between the jam and the butter. 

 

“Beyond the things I want to ask you, there are some things that I should tell you,” Indrid said.

 

“What’s up?” Duck said. Maybe if he moved the juice-- there we go. All of the cartons were precariously jammed into the fridge.

 

“I… I think you should maybe sit down,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh, uh, okay?” Duck frowned, looking over his shoulder. Indrid looked twitchy, in a nervous way. Duck tried not to look too concerned.

 

Duck shut the fridge softly and used the counter to pull himself up. He went over to the couch, where Winnie was sprawled out on the red blanket. She was disturbed by him sitting down and got up to go eat. Indrid sat down on the opposite end of the couch. Duck was worried.

 

“Let’s, um, I just want to clear some things up first,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid, you’re scaring me. Are you okay? Did I do something?” Duck said.

 

“No-- no, I’m fine, and you haven’t done anything wrong,” Indrid said, “But, like I said, I wanted to ask you about some things you said last night.”

 

Duck could feel his face heating up. “I, uh, alright, I don’t really remember everything I said last night, um, that I would explain, but I think I know what you mean.”

 

“Yes, I know you don’t remember, because I think you would be a lot more, um, flustered right now. You said I was, what was it… ‘hot in a creepy kind of way’ when Juno asked if you actually thought I was attractive,” Indrid said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

 

“Fuck.” Duck covered his face with his hands. “I don’t-- what does that even mean? Shit, I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine. I just wondered if you had any insight into what you thought that meant at the time?” Indrid said.

 

“I dunno, I guess I was thinking like-- look, I’m looking at you, and objectively, you’ve got some features that mainstream beauty would say are a good thing. Y’know, like the cheekbones and the jawline and you’re tall and all that,” Duck rambled, gesturing vaguely at Indrid. He started losing coherency. “But, like, your skin is basically color-less and I can see your veins and that’s fine but at first it was kind of scary. And the teeth are cool but they’re not, like, normal and then like you have the proboscis and that’s hot but I don’t think most people would think so. And people who didn’t know you might think you look weird but honestly I think it’s a good look except that maybe you should eat more.”

 

When Duck finally shut his mouth, he couldn’t even parse what he had just declared. Indrid tilted his head. Duck stayed perfectly still. He had probably just made things so much worse. Maybe Indrid could break his jaw and he wouldn’t be able to talk ever again. That would probably be for the best.

 

“I’m not going to hit you,” Indrid said, “I’m just surprised that anyone would find me appealing.”

 

Duck opened his mouth and then shut it again. Nothing he could say would help the situation.

 

“Can I tell you something?” Indrid asked. Duck nodded. “I’m not 100% moth. Well, obviously, because I’m sitting here right now. But the  _ lepidoptera _ features are only about half of that part of me. I am, technically speaking, an abomination. You’ve seen my Sylvan form. I have moth wings, but also bird wings. And moths don’t generally have eye shine, let alone glowing red eyes. And, well, I can see the fucking future, Duck. You can understand that I’m not your average Sylvain citizen.”

 

“Well, okay, hold on, that ain’t fair. You’re perfectly sane, and you’re sentient-- hyper-sentient, even-- and you’re not, like, tryna kill anyone,” Duck said.

 

“If I had no abilities, I would have been removed from civilization in Sylvain at the very least, and then who knows. Isolation can be very bad for your sense of self,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid…” Duck said, leaning toward him.

 

“You don’t need to feel bad for me. Any justice I deserved was delivered tenfold when I said where the portal was. That’s not even-- well, I suppose it is the worse part, but the final straw was that after all the things supposedly ‘wrong’ with me, my body wasn’t even the one I wanted,” Indrid said.

 

“Shit,” Duck said softly.

 

“It’s alright now. Sylvain was full of cosmetic magicians, and I was wealthy enough to afford the transitioning process. That ended up being the least of my problems,” Indrid said.

 

“I know what you mean. I mean, I know it’s not the same, but…” Duck shrugged, “For what it’s worth, I understand what that can be like.”

 

Instead of replying, Indrid almost absentmindedly laced his fingers with Duck’s. Duck squeezed Indrid’s hand lightly, and he was suddenly aware of how well their hands fit together. Indrid’s long, spindly fingers tightened around Duck’s calloused palm. He studied the dark hair on Indrid’s knuckles to avoid looking him in the eye.

 

“You know, Duck, you said all those nice things about me, I think I should return the favor,” Indrid said. Duck looked up at him. Indrid was smiling a genuine smile with a slight hint of mischief.

 

“Okay, um, I mean, go ahead?” Duck replied. He didn’t know if this was a joke or not.

 

“I have absolutely no idea how humans determine beauty, so if I say something that sounds rude please let me know,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s alright, I don’t think I’d be considered good-looking by human standards anyway,” Duck said.

 

“Well, by my standards, at least, you’re quite admirable,” Indrid said, moving slightly closer. It felt like butterflies, or maybe moths had taken up residence in Duck’s gut. “You’re incredibly strong, and it shows.”

 

Indrid moved the hand not holding Duck’s to rest on Duck’s bicep. He was right up to Duck now, and their legs were touching.

 

“Your hair is soft, and I know you don’t like how grey it’s getting, but I do.”

 

Indrid’s hand shifted up to card through Duck’s hair. Duck had to try so hard to stay still.

 

“And your eyes are fascinating. They’re so full of light, and passion, even when you’re upset.”

 

Now Indrid’s hand was resting on Duck’s cheek, just under his left eye. Duck couldn’t help but lean into the touch. His stomach felt like it was going to leave his body, in a really good way.

 

“To be honest, Duck, I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

 

And then Indrid leaned forward just enough and pressed his lips to the corner of Duck’s mouth. Duck turned his face slightly and kissed Indrid fully. Indrid responded enthusiastically, and Duck felt his smile more than saw it. Duck smiled too. When he finally pulled back to breathe, Duck looked up at Indrid with a hopeful expression.

 

“You know, I was going to say the same about you,” Duck smiled. 

 

Indrid laughed. “I should have mentioned how charming you were.”

 

“Now, hold on, is this to be a competition over who can say the most nice things? ‘Cause I think I got you beat there,” Duck said.

 

“Hmm, prove it.”

 

Duck smiled as he met Indrid halfway in another kiss. This one was softer, and Duck could feel Indrid’s ever-widening smile against his face. He pulled away a little earlier this time, though.

 

“Is that-- what does this mean for us?” Duck asked.

 

“I… I love you, Duck, I think I have for a while,” Indrid said.

 

Duck paused to think about that. And then he realized he didn’t have to.

 

“I love you too, Indrid.”

 

He hadn’t been thinking about it, honestly. Each individual thought about Indrid had crossed his mind, but he had never put together the whole idea. The idea, or rather fact, that he was in love with Indrid. Wow, wasn’t that a thought.  _ I am in love with Indrid _ . He sounded it out in his head.

 

“That is excellent to hear,” Indrid grinned. He kissed Duck again, still shallow but more meaningful than before.

 

“Did I say it in every timeline?” Duck asked.

 

“Most of them. Some of them, you had to go hide in your room for a few minutes before you came back, and in a few I think you cried,” Indrid said.

 

“Would you say this is the best possible timeline?” Duck smirked, ignoring the crying part. He was emotional right now, but he wasn’t going to cry.

 

“Maybe if you kissed me again,” Indrid said. Duck did so earnestly.

 

They spent a few more minutes making out on Duck’s couch. Indrid ended up on top of Duck, with his hands on Duck’s shoulder and neck. Duck had put his hands on Indrid’s waist, but they were slowly moving upward. Duck parted his lips, allowing Indrid’s longue tongue into his mouth. It felt a little weird, but Duck could see himself getting used to it. He pulled away to breathe, and Indrid pulled his tongue in slowly.

 

“Do you think we should go somewhere else?” Duck suggested.

 

“What are you suggesting?” Indrid said coyly.

 

“Lemme try again,” Duck grinned. He cleared his throat and proclaimed, “Indrid Cold, would you like to move this to my bed so we don’t crush our age-ed spines like Pepsi cans?”

 

“Yes, I think I would like to do that,” Indrid laughed.

 

~☀~

 

That night, Duck was on the graveyard shift at the ranger station. He was in a better mood than he had been probably ever. Indrid had made him take a nap by cuddling him into submission, so he wasn’t even tired. He finished all his paperwork and was halfway through reviewing that week’s tree growth data. The phone on his desk rang, and Duck picked it up.

 

“Monongahela National Forest Service, you’ve reached Ranger Newton, what can I do for you?” Duck said cheekily.

 

“Hello, Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“Hey Indrid,” Duck smiled.

 

“I’m calling, um, to say-- fuck. Hold on--” 

 

Indrid must have knocked into something, because there was a clang and the sound of keys hitting concrete. Then it sounded like Indrid hung up. A car engine sounded on the other end, though, so the call was still going. There was a scuffling, and then Indrid cleared his throat.

 

When Indrid’s voice returned, it sounded hollow. “I’m calling because I just want you to know that I love you, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I’ve really enjoyed our time together. You can have my stuff, or get rid of it, or whatever you want to do. Goodbye, Duck, I love you.”

 

The line went dead.

 

Duck sat, frozen, any happiness drained from his body. Indrid never said goodbye. And he wasn’t taking his stuff? Duck was confused, but more importantly he was terrified. He grabbed his keys and rushed out to his car. He didn’t even care about the speed limit. He had to get to Indrid.

 

When he reached Eastwood Campgrounds, there was no one there. Duck sprinted to Indrid’s Winnebago. The lights inside were off. The door was unlocked when Duck tried it. He looked around; there was no drawings, no garbage, no sign of life in the camper. The heaters were unplugged, their cords neatly coiled. A stack of blankets were folded nicely on the couch. Most tellingly, a thin layer of dust coated the whole place. On the kitchen counter, there was a keyring with three keys on it and a note. Duck picked up the note.

 

_ Hey Duck, _

_ I’m sorry. I know you hate when I say that, but this time it really is my fault. It’s not your fault at all, I need you to know that. By the time you read this, I’ll be too far gone. Agent Stern and some CIA agents that have been looking for me for years came tonight, and turning myself over was the best option for everyone else in Kepler. I wish we could have had more time together, but I’ll cherish what we did have. Tell everyone I’m sorry. _

_ Love, Indrid _

_ PS: Look under the bed  _ ♡

 

It wasn’t until a stray tear hit the paper that Duck realized he was crying. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and squinted at the paper. Was there a hidden message? It was pretty straightforward, so Duck figured there wouldn’t be. He left the note on the counter and went into the bedroom at the back of the camper.

 

The room itself wasn’t very big, with a full size bed sandwiched between a dresser and a desk. Duck squeezed into the small floor space and reached under the bed. He felt around a little bit and his hand hit the side of a box. After a moment of fruitless grabbing, Duck managed to slide the box out. He picked it up and put it on the (empty) desk. It was an old wooden box, no larger than a shoebox, with strange markings on the sides. A plain golden latch creaked under Duck’s fingers as he opened it.

 

Gemstones of varying sizes and colors took up most of the room in the box. Duck was surprised. He had never been sure how Indrid had money; now at least he had an explanation. He would rather hear it from the man himself, but there was only so many things Duck could be upset about at one time. He picked up a few and examined them. He didn’t really care about them that much, but as he picked up a chunk of amethyst he spotted something.

 

Underneath the gemstones was a small, plain sketchbook bound in grey leather with smooth, thin cedar planks for the front and back cover. Duck fished it out carefully. On the cover, there was an engraving of a duck in flight that looked to be filled in with watercolors. Duck flipped the book open. The first page was blank, but the next thirty or so pages were filled with detailed illustrations of Duck. Some of them were just graphite, and others were traced in pen, and some were even colored in. Each of them had a date written with them. Some were from before Indrid had even made that first phone call. As Duck looked through it, he saw things that had actually happened, drawn way before they actually came to be.

 

The last few drawings were the most heart-wrenching. Where the other drawings had been from Indrid’s perspective, these ones actually had Indrid in them. They were simple scenes, like eating at a restaurant or playing video games in Duck’s apartment. The last one, a few pages from the end of the book, was clearly unfinished. It showed Duck sitting on a tree stump, and then a half-erased Indrid standing across from him. 

 

Duck had to hold back the tears that formed in his eyes so he wouldn’t smear the graphite. He closed the sketchbook and put it back in the box, between a round garnet and a chunk of raw emerald. Then he closed the box and flipped the latch shut. He could deal with this particular set of feelings later.

 

There was no way Duck was just going to go back to work, he decided. He had to figure out how he was going to get Indrid back. The fact of the matter was that he had no idea where Indrid went, no idea where a secret CIA laboratory or detainment building would be, and no idea how he would get Indrid out if he found him. Great fucking start. 

 

Duck pushed the tears from his eyes and sat down on Indrid's bed. He had to think clearly. What could he do right now? Duck looked around at the room. Like the rest of the vehicle, there was nothing to suggest anyone lived there, except for the box on the desk. Stained and threadbare grey sheets were tucked neatly around the mattress, with two plain pillows at the headboard. One of them looked old and frayed, but the other looked relatively new.

 

There was nothing immediately inspiring, though. Duck sighed and stood up. He put the box under the bed again. He could come back to that later. He went back to the main room and looked around. Still no secret clues or whatever Duck was looking for. He picked up the note again and flipped it over. The back was blank. Duck held it up to the moonlight coming through the window. Still nothing. Maybe Indrid didn't want Duck to save him.

 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head. He didn't give a shit if Indrid wanted to be saved or not. Indrid didn't deserve to get poked and prodded by scientists and then killed when he wasn't useful anymore. Fuck! This was fucking bad. The reality of the situation, that he may never see Indrid again, was finally setting in. Duck swallowed another wave of panic.

 

Of course this happened after Duck was weakened. Twenty-something years he'd been a fucking superhero and did nothing. The minute he finally needed the powers, they were gone. Everyone was gone. First Minerva, now Indrid. The universe really didn't want Duck to have anyone, huh? What a fucking cliche. Chosen One loses everything and has to rise from the ashes to achieve his destiny. Fuck that. Duck wasn’t chosen, he wasn’t shit. He was just angry and useless.

 

Duck considered crumpling the note in his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was the last message from Indrid that Duck might ever get. That was a shitty mentality, but Duck was running out of options. It was the middle of the night, and most of Kepler was pretty anti-Indrid anyways. The only people Duck could trust with helping him were at Amnesty Lodge, and they didn't like Indrid either. Ned would take Barclay's side, too. But there was no way Duck could do it by himself. With shaky hands, he folded the note into his pocket.

 

Duck grabbed the key ring off the counter and walked up to the driver's seat of the Winnebago resolutely. He was going to get Indrid back if it killed him.


	7. you can know but you can't learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck tries to balance hopelessness and frustration and everyone has their own side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more heavy stuff in this chapter! extremely guilt-heavy, truly the catharsis of this fic. we're getting towards the end, but fear not. i am almost as bad as griffo at knowing how long is left. who knows? i might drag this fic on forever until yall are bored of it [jk i wont but i could!]

Pink on the horizon. Grinding metal. Hopelessness.

 

The sun was starting to glow between the mountains by the time Duck reached Amnesty Lodge. The Winnebago drove wide and loud, and the suspension creaked over every pebble. He couldn't go above 30 miles per hour without the engine making a threatening noise. It was excruciating, trundling slowly up the hill.

 

When he got there, the camper wouldn't fit in a parking space, so Duck just parked it along the side of the lot. As Duck turned off the engine, he saw Barclay walking out of the lobby. Barclay looked contemptuous, but his expression changed when Duck opened the door.

 

“What's going on?” Barclay frowned.

 

“Indrid's gone. He's gone, Stern-- Stern took him, I don’t know where,” Duck said. Saying it out loud was like a punch to the gut.

 

“What?” Barclay exclaimed, “I heard Stern leave earlier, I didn’t realize--”

 

“Fuck! He’s gone!” Duck cried.

 

“Here, come on, let’s go inside,” Barclay said.

 

Duck allowed himself to be led inside. It was dark and empty in the lobby. Only two lamps were on, and the fire was barely smoldering. Barclay steered Duck onto a couch, and Duck sat down. He stared into the dimly-glowing logs listlessly.

 

“I’m gonna go get Mama,” Barclay said. Duck nodded numbly.

 

Footsteps left the room. Duck didn’t care. He kept staring at the fire, like the embers might spell out a solution. He wished he had something, anything, that would tell him what to do. A sign from the universe. A goddamn omen. Duck didn’t care.

 

Two sets of footsteps entered the room. Duck still didn’t look up. He saw Mama sit in her armchair out of the corner of his eye. Barclay hovered behind her. Mama cleared her throat.

 

“So, Duck, what happened?” Mama asked.

 

“I…” Duck took a deep breath. Crying wouldn’t help right now. “I was on a night shift at the station, and I got a call from Indrid, right, ‘cause he had been at my apartment earlier, and he said-- he told me I could have his stuff, and that he-- that he appreciated everything I’d done for him, and he said-- goodbye. He’s never said goodbye before so I knew it was serious and I drove over there as fast as I could and he was _gone--_ ”

 

That was it. The dam cracked in time with the crack in his voice. Duck was sobbing, and he was embarrassing himself in front of people who definitely didn’t care about Indrid as much as he did. He stopped trying to talk. He had to focus on breathing steadily so he didn’t wake up the whole damn building.

 

Finally, Duck calmed down enough to continue. “So I went in his trailer, and it was unlocked. Inside it was like-- it was as if no one had been there, or maybe someone was just about to move out. All the lights were off, and all the heaters and blankets were shoved in a corner. He left a note on the counter, and a couple keys. His, uh, his two keys for the Winnebago, and the, um, spare key I gave him.”

 

“Duck…” Mama sighed.

 

“Look, I’m not-- I can’t argue about this right now. I shouldn’t’ve-- I told myself I wasn’t in love with the guy like two days ago-- apparently I was fuckin’ lying, ‘cause I am, and…” Duck said.

 

“It’s okay, Duck, we ain’t gonna pick a fight right now,” Mama said, “Do you have the note?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Duck said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note. It was slightly creased, but it was still legible. Aside from Indrid’s awful handwriting, at least. Duck handed it over to Mama.

 

Mama scanned the note. Her face changed as she reached the bottom of it. She handed the note back to Duck. Duck tried to figure out what she was thinking, and got nothing. The lobby was filled with heavy silence for a minute. Duck hated it.

 

“I think what we need to worry about it what he’s going to say,” Barclay said finally, “We all know what happened last time. I don’t know why they keep getting him, but…”

 

“He’s not gonna talk,” Duck said.

 

“What do you mean?” Mama asked.

 

“He… he’s sacrificing himself, so that Agent Stern will leave Kepler and no one will suspect anything. They’ll want him to say where the portal is, and he’s going to refuse,” Duck said, “And.. they’re going to kill him.”

 

“We don’t know that,” Mama said.

 

“I do, Mama. He told me everything,” Duck said, “How he only got caught in the first place because he was waterlogged from trying to save people from the Silver Bridge collapse. How they decided to fuckin’ torture him until he gave them more information. How he still fucking blames himself for Sylvain’s destruction, even though he wouldn’t be there if the CIA could just mind their damn business. He said to me, out loud, that if he had died back then then Sylvain would still be alive. So I think this is his way of making things right.”

 

If the silence before had been thick, this was absolutely deafening. Neither Mama nor Barclay seemed to know how to react to that. Duck felt more tears forming in his eyes. He picked up the note off the table and put it back in his pocket.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

Duck looked up at the source of the voice. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Aubrey, who had clearly just woken up. She looked confused by Duck’s presence, like she thought she might still be dreaming.

 

“I…” Duck couldn’t put words together. He just looked helplessly at Mama, who seemed to understand.

 

“Agent Stern took Indrid,” Mama said. Aubrey gasped.

 

“He can’t do that!” Aubrey said. Barclay gestured for her to be quiet.

 

“He can, and he did, and if what Duck said is true, he’s not coming back, ‘least not on his own,” Mama said.

 

“What do you mean?” Aubrey asked.

 

“The last time the CIA arrested him, he ended up telling them where the portal was,” Barclay explained, “This time, at least according to Duck, Indrid went willingly to take attention away from everything going on here.”

 

“Wait, he can’t-- is he going to-- we have to get him back, right?” Aubrey asked.

 

“How?” Duck said. His voice cracked and he hated it.

 

“Do you know which way they went? We might be able to figure something out there,” Aubrey asked.

 

“Well, they’d have to keep going southeast for a bit to go around the loop, but I don’t know if they kept going after that. If they turned back north then they would’ve come through town, but I didn’t go back to town at all so I dunno,” Duck said.

 

“Look, I know this is hard, but we don’t have any idea where they’re taking him or what kind of forces we’d be up against if we tried to help him,” Mama said.

 

“We can’t just give up,” Aubrey said.

 

“I’m not saying you have to. I’m just saying we can’t charge into this. We need to know more before we can make a plan,” Mama said.

 

“But Indrid could be anywhere by then!” Aubrey said.

 

“Exactly. We have no clue what’s going to happen,” Mama said, “And I can’t in good conscience let y’all or especially any Sylphs run right into an unknown government facility.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, they want Indrid alive for now, but they don’t give a shit about the rest of us,” Duck said.

 

“So what do we do?” Aubrey asked.

 

“Been asking myself the same question since he-- since I found out,” Duck said.

 

“Why don’t we all go to sleep and think about it in the morning with clear heads,” Mama said, “Duck, you wanna stay here for tonight?”

 

“I dunno, I mean, my truck’s still at the campground, so I guess,” Duck said.

 

“You drove Indrid’s trailer up here?” Mama asked.

 

Duck nodded, “Yeah, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m gonna do about it. I’ll have to keep it somewhere, but I don’t want to leave it out at the campgrounds. There’s a lot, out by my apartment, I might be able to keep it there.”

 

“You can worry about all that later. Barclay, can you see about a room for him?” Mama said.

 

Barclay nodded and went off toward the stairs. Aubrey looked between Mama and Duck. Duck looked up at her (with puffy eyes, fuck, he probably looked like shit) and shrugged. Aubrey was doing a bad job of hiding her concern. She gave Duck a half-hearted thumbs up and followed Barclay up the stairs.

 

“I know it’s… hard, losing someone like this,” Mama said, “But we’re gonna need all the brainpower we can get if we’re gonna get him back. We’ll call Ned in the morning too, see if he can do anything.”

 

“Thanks,” Duck sniffled. He felt like a petulant child, even though he knew he had a valid reason to be upset.

 

“It’s alright. Go on to bed, I’ll have someone come wake you up when it’s time,” Mama said.

 

Duck nodded and walked over to the stairs. He didn’t have any of his stuff with him; he’d been in such a rush he’d even forgotten his jacket. At the top of the stairs, Duck came face to face with Barclay.

 

“Last room on the left,” Barclay said, handing Duck the key.

 

“Thanks,” Duck mumbled. Barclay nodded and started walking to his own room.

 

Duck went into the room. He had never been in an actual room at Amnesty Lodge, but it was about what he expected. Wood paneling on the walls, a queen-sized bed with neatly made green covers, thick maroon curtains blocking the pre-dawn light from a window looking out over the hot springs. A simple white lamp was turned on on the nightstand. Duck clicked it off and slumped down onto the bed. He pulled the note out of his pocket and looked at it, not really reading the words.

 

It felt wrong to try and sleep. Duck knew in his logical mind that there was nothing he could do right now. But years of not doing anything were piling up, and he felt guilty about everything. He felt like he had to do something right now to make up for it. But anything he did now would be effectively useless. Duck was effectively useless.

 

With a sigh, Duck set the note down on the nightstand. He toed off his shoes and got under the covers. He was still in his uniform, but it would be fine. Wasn’t like he was going in to work tomorrow. The exhaustion finally caught up to Duck, and he fell into a tense sleep.

 

~☀~

 

It felt like Duck had only been asleep for a minute when he heard the door creak open. Duck wasn’t a light sleeper, but he couldn’t really rest until Indrid was back. Still, he tried to stay asleep. He heard light footsteps padding towards him.

 

“Duck?” Aubrey said quietly.

 

“Mmph,” Duck replied.

 

“Barclay made breakfast, if you, um, want to come down. Ned’s on the way too,” Aubrey said.

 

“I’ll come down in a minute,” Duck croaked. His throat, already gravelly with sleep, was sore from trying not to cry.

 

“Alright, um, just, uh, holler if you need anything,” Aubrey said.

 

It sounded like she was being extra-careful with her words. Duck hated that. He knew she was trying to be nice, but Duck was a grown man. He didn’t need special treatment just because his boyfriend was stolen by the government. He didn’t say anything though, and Aubrey left the room.

 

Duck stared through the crack in the curtains. It was sunny outside, probably around eight in the morning. He shifted just enough to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. 8:23. Close enough. Now that he had moved from his initial position, it was a little bit easier to start getting up. Still pretty hard, but manageable.

 

One of the most constant reminders of Duck’s fragility was the constant pain. He wondered if everyone was always going through it; his joints, his back, his shoulders, his head, all thrumming with a low ache. He stretched, and some random pops and crackles were magnified in the empty room. He stood up, feeling the almost-normal pain in his knees and hips. Just another reminder of how weak Duck would be from here on out.

 

Finally, Duck trudged into the bathroom. He examined his face in the mirror. His beard was starting to get out of hand. Combined with the dark circles under his eyes and the bedhead, Duck looked like a deranged mountain man. Maybe that’s what he was now. Duck considered going downstairs like that, but his common sense got the better of him. Sighing deeply, Duck started stripping out of his rumpled Forest Service uniform. He could take a shower, at least.

 

Soon enough, Duck looked like a semi-functioning person again. He had put his uniform back on, because it was the only thing he had. He would be going home soon, hopefully, and then they could get Indrid. God, he hoped they could figure out something. Duck didn’t know anything, and that scared him. He pocketed the note from the nightstand and left the room.

 

Duck reached the bottom of the stairs. He could smell various breakfast foods in the kitchen. He walked into the dining room. There were a few people in there, eating and talking at the tables scattered throughout the room. Duck went over to the window into the kitchen. Barclay was tending to some bacon on the stove.

 

“G’morning,” Duck said.

 

“Hey, Duck,” Barclay greeted. He seemed like he was walking on eggshells too. Duck didn’t understand why, really. What did he do to make people wary of him?

 

“We’re meeting downstairs, right?” Duck asked.

 

“Yeah, once Ned gets here. You want something to eat?” Barclay replied.

 

Duck looked at the various breakfast foods on the counter. They smelled good, but he didn’t feel very hungry. He didn’t feel very anything.

 

“Nah, I’m good, thanks, I’ll just head down,” Duck said.

 

“You sure?” Barclay raised his eyebrows.

 

“Yeah,” Duck nodded. Barclay looked concerned, but didn’t push it.

 

With that, Duck left the dining room and made his way to the basement. He passed a few people in the lobby, including Dani. She gave Duck a strange look as he passed her. Duck tried not to react. Aubrey had probably said something to her about Indrid. Duck figured Dani disliked Indrid for the same reason Barclay and everyone else did.

 

When Duck got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Mama already there, typing away on an old computer. She didn’t seem to notice him standing there. Duck cleared his throat awkwardly.

 

“Morning, Duck,” Mama said, not looking up.

 

“Hey,” Duck said, “Have you been here since last night?”

 

“Yeah,” Mama said.

 

She was reading something on her screen. Duck tried to figure out what it was. It looked like a scan of a government document, judging from the header. He couldn’t make out the words, but it looked like a profile of some sort. She scrolled past the picture, and Duck recognized the slightly grainy face of Agent Stern.

 

“Do you think there’s something in Stern’s file about a location?” Duck asked. He didn’t need or want to know how Mama had access to these documents.

 

“It’s the last place I can think to look,” Mama said.

 

“You think they’re taking him to a CIA place or to like, the Pentagon?” Duck wondered aloud.

 

“From the looks of it, the UP division is getting a lot of resources and information from the CIA, so it’s impossible to tell. I’d guess CIA because they already have the facilities, but who knows what the government’s been doing,” Mama said.

 

“But it has to be in the area, right? At least right now?” Duck reasoned.

 

“Yeah, I think they’ll keep him pretty close,” Mama said.

 

They were both quiet for a moment. Duck wondered if he should leave until it was time for the meeting. Then Mama spoke.

 

“I know how you feel about Indrid, and I know there’s nothing that will change that. I don’t… You’re like a kid to me, Duck. Not in a babying way, ‘cause you know I’ve never been the type. But I see parts of myself in you, and I want what’s best for you,” Mama said.

 

Duck didn’t say anything. She didn’t sound like she was done talking.

 

Mama continued, “I thought keeping you away from Indrid would be the best. I knew something like this would happen, or he would do something to hurt you on his own. Then that last Pine Guard meeting, I saw how happy you were, and I knew it was too late. You were defensive because you care about him.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Duck tried.

 

That wasn’t the right answer, he could tell, because Mama’s face darkened. “Duck, you don’t ever gotta apologize for caring about someone. Indrid’s-- he’s made some mistakes, and I know you know that. But if he’s good enough for you, then he’s changed since then. And if he’s sacrificing himself like this, then he’s even better than I thought.”

 

“Mama, I--”

 

Multiple sets of footsteps started coming down the stairs. Duck looked up and saw the rest of the Pine Guard entering the room. Aubrey looked upset, Barclay looked resolute, and Ned looked confused. Everyone settled on various chairs and surfaces, including Duck, who leaned against the wall with his arms folded. He took a deep breath and tried to center himself. He couldn’t help if he was too upset to talk.

 

“I think we need to catch everyone up,” Mama started. She looked at Duck. “Duck, you know the most.”

 

Everyone’s eyes focused on him.

 

Duck had always hated the spotlight. He wasn’t one to draw attention to himself or anything like that. He minded his own business and stayed in his own lane. And now he was supposed to explain what had happened without breaking down. Duck shoved all his feelings, all his anxieties and fear and sadness and anger and selfish, selfish frustration with his own fate, down into the depths of his heart. He bottled them up to deal with never and began to speak.

 

“Last night, around 1:30 in the morning, I was on a night shift out at the station and I got a phone call. It was Indrid, right, ‘cause he’ll call me sometimes.” Duck waited for an interruption, but none came. “And he basically said, um, that he was glad he could spend time with-- with us, and that I could do whatever with his stuff, and then he said goodbye. And it was like-- he never said goodbye before, right, so I knew something was up. I drove over there as fast as I could, and when I got there, it was just his empty trailer.”

 

At this point, everyone had averted their eyes. It felt like they were pitying Duck, which was worse than just staring at him. Duck took a deep breath, but he didn’t feel like he was going to cry. He had done enough of that last night, apparently. Duck started talking again.

 

“I went in the trailer, and, um, there was a note, and his keys, on the counter. I… the note said that he was turning himself in to Agent Stern and the CIA, and that I--that he was sorry,” Duck said. He was lying significantly better than normal, somehow. Maybe because he was just shifting the focus, from himself to everyone. And omitting the more emotional details.

 

“Can we see the note?” Ned asked.

 

“No,” Duck said. Ned frowned. “I, uh… I, heh, destroyed it? Yeah.”

 

“You’re a shitty liar, Duck,” Aubrey said.

 

“I’m serious, it’s gone,” Duck lied. He didn’t need them to pity him more than they clearly already did.

 

“Where is it?” Ned asked.

 

“Nowhere.” Duck looked down at the floor. He could feel everyone’s gazes burning into him, especially Mama’s and Barclay’s. They already knew, and they could keep their damn mouths shut.

 

“We can’t help you if you’re hiding stuff from us,” Aubrey said.

 

“Fine! He said he loved me, okay?” Duck exclaimed. Aubrey recoiled. “Are you fucking happy? Do you feel better now, now that you’ve got that tidbit of information? He just said that he loved me! And he told me not to blame myself because at this point he probably knows me better than all y’all combined, okay? And he left me a sketchbook, filled with drawings of me and him, and he said he wished we could’ve had more time together, and holy shit he only told me yesterday because he knew what was gonna happen, and he knew if he didn’t then he might never--”

 

Duck was crying again. Ugly tears rolled from the corners of his eyes, down the dark circles and into his beard. He looked down, trying to keep his breathing even. A silent hiccup wracked his body, and Duck clenched his fist. He had to keep it together.

 

To his surprise, Aubrey came over and wrapped an arm around him. She was a lot shorter than him, so it was awkward, but Duck appreciated the gesture. He let out a few more quiet sobs before he managed to get himself under control.

 

“We’re gonna get him back,” Aubrey assured him.

 

“I fucking hope so,” Duck sniffled.

 

“I have good news,” Ned interjected. Duck looked up at him skeptically, wiping his eyes. “I put a GPS tracker in Stern’s car, about a month ago, in case something like this happened.”

 

Duck raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s… good news, yeah.”

 

He saw Ned glance at Barclay, and he understood. To be fair, up until a month ago, Barclay was Stern’s main target. It was only once Duck started getting involved that Indrid had been under scrutiny. He wished he had had the foresight to prepare for the possibility. Ned did, though, so at least there was something.

 

“Alright, that’s a good lead. Ned, why don’t you and I work on that. Aubrey, I need you to go through the archives, find file 370-65-A. Barclay, you take Duck to his car,” Mama instructed. Everyone nodded. “Duck, you go home, get ready, maybe pack a bag. This ain’t gonna be easy. Whoever’s going will come pick you up.”

 

“Okay,” Duck said. Mama went back to the computer with Ned standing over her.

 

The unofficial meeting disbanded. Duck followed Barclay out of the basement. Neither of them said anything as they walked through the lodge. They got into Mama’s truck and drove down the dirt road. As they turned onto the main street, Barclay spoke.

 

“Is it weird that I feel guilty?” Barclay asked.

 

“Why’s that?” Duck replied, looking over.

 

“I… did he tell you what I said to him?” Barclay asked.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Duck said. Indrid hadn’t mentioned the specifics of their argument, but Duck understood the basics of it.

 

“I… I meant it at the time, I think, but… he didn’t deserve that,” Barclay said, “He had just escaped a government-sanctioned torture facility and found out how much damage he’d caused. He was more terrified and upset than I was. If you had met him then, you wouldn’t even know him. Shaking all the time, wouldn’t drink anything thinner than milk, and sometimes he’d just freeze in place for hours at a time.

 

“We were friends before, sort of. Met him in what, ‘51 maybe? We ran in different parts of the woods, and he was pretty isolated, but we met up at least once a year for lunch or something with a couple other folks. He stopped showing up though, in 1967. Figured he just got busy. Missed two years. I got curious, and started looking for him later in the third year. As I was searching, y’know, the whole thing with Sylvain happened.

 

“I put two and two together, and I got angry. Found a guy with a Winnebago who matched the personality, and had no records anywhere. Not to mention the glasses. I tailed him for a few days to see if he was who I was looking for. He didn’t leave the camper much, obviously, but as soon as I heard him talk I recognized him. I was upset, and I said some things I really regret,” Barclay explained.

 

“Wha-- I… wow,” Duck said. He had never really considered Barclay’s perspective, and Indrid hadn’t gone into detail on his day-to-day routines. If Indrid was really like Barclay said, then he might not even remember.

 

“I know. I know it was shitty, and I feel bad, so I feel like I need to be involved in getting him back,” Barclay said.

 

“It’s not-- it’s a hundred times more risky for you,” Duck said.

 

“That doesn’t change the fact that on some level, this is probably my fault,” Barclay said.

 

“We all just love blaming ourselves, huh,” Duck said with a bitter laugh.

 

Barclay looked at the rearview mirror. “I--I’m pretty sure that if I hadn’t said what I said to him then he wouldn’t have the self-sacrificing mentality he has now, or at least had last night. I knew about him before he left Sylvain too, Duck, and he was reckless. He was a bored rich kid who basically couldn’t die. He saw Earth as a thing to study, not a place where people lived. He didn’t _care_ , Duck.”

 

Duck didn’t say anything. He could tell Barclay wasn’t done.

 

Barclay sighed, “Not like he does now, at least. I’m not saying he was heartless, but… selfish, for sure. It’s like he’d been a seer his whole life, but he didn’t realize that his own actions had consequences. When I found him afterwards, that was all gone. It was like humility had hit him like a goddamn train and broke everything in his body. He wasn’t the same at all, but I treated him like he was. And it was the final straw, apparently.

 

“I watched him break, Duck. It was horrible, and at the time I thought-- I thought he deserved it, for what he did to our home, to our world. I could see the gears turning in his head as he processed what I said. And then all he said was ‘you’re right’ and he turned around and went home. I haven’t seen him or talked to him since,” Barclay said.

 

Again, the car was filled with uncomfortable silence. Duck had to break it.

 

“He doesn’t blame you, as far as I can tell,” Duck said.

 

“No, but he believed me, which was worse,” Barclay said, “If it was just an insult that would be different. But I told him if-- that-- I said, ‘If one person dying saves a whole planet, you have to take that deal.’ I said that to him, a living person, who had almost died, who was barely fucking conscious at the time, who had just escaped repeated drowning to find out his home had been almost entirely destroyed,” Barclay said. Instead of getting louder like an upset person might, he was getting quieter and more desperate.

 

“Shit,” Duck muttered. Indrid hadn’t told him the word-for-word story. For someone so focused on details, Indrid didn’t seem to care much about his own.

 

“I know,” Barclay said, barely above a whisper, “I know.”

 

“Look, I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t help us get Indrid,” Duck started. Barclay glanced at him worriedly. “Obviously we need all the help we can get, and you don’t want him dead. But you’re gonna have to be extra careful. Stern’s already on your case, if you show up with us he’s gonna know who you are. And if you… don’t come back, it’s gonna be a big empty space. So weigh your options evenly, I guess is what I’m saying.”

 

“Right,” Barclay said, staring through the windshield resolutely.

 

It was barely another minute before they pulled into the Eastwood Campground loop. Barclay drove past the empty lots until they spotted Duck’s truck. Duck hopped out with a “thanks” and went over to it.

 

The truck looked the same as it was last night, not that Duck thought it would be any different. He would have to swing by the station before he went home, to get his stuff. Fuck, that meant he’d have to talk to Juno. Still, Duck stopped at the familiar beige and green building and went inside.

 

“Duck!” Juno exclaimed, “Oh my god, I wasn’t sure what happened to you. When I got here this morning you were gone and the door was unlocked but your stuff was still here. I went looking for your car, and it was at Eastwood camp but that guy’s trailer wasn’t there, I thought maybe he murdered you!”

 

“Well, I’m still alive, so…” Duck shrugged.

 

“You look like shit. What happened?” Juno asked.

 

Duck looked down at the floor. “I… listen, Juno, I could stand here and lie to you all day, and you could call me on it, but honestly…”

 

Duck tried to figure out what to say. It had to not sound batshit crazy and also be realistic for him to do.

 

“He called me at the station from the payphone, said it was an emergency.” That was only a lie in a very literal sense. “So I rushed over there.” Completely true and provable. “Turns out his electricity hookups, were, uh, fried.” Oops, Duck, you’re slipping. “So he was near freezing to death.” Probably true, the guy was chilly more often than not. “I helped him get it, uh, fixed enough to go?” Duck didn’t know anything about cars, so he figured that would work. “And then we, um, went down to… Green Bank to find a place that would fix it up.” Complete and total lie.

 

“You can just tell me if you two slept together,” Juno said.

 

“That would make literally no sense in this context,” Duck said.

 

“But you did, at some point?” Juno raised an eyebrow.

 

“That’s none of your business,” Duck said.

 

“Alright. Get your stuff, get some rest,” Juno said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said. He thought for a moment, and realized he should probably do something about his job in case this top secret government infiltration went long or sour. “Hey, do you think you could cover my shift tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Juno said with a wink.

 

“No, there’s not-- stop winking!” Duck protested.

 

“Okay.” Wink.

 

Duck smiled and shook his head. He really wished it was that goddamn simple.

 

~☀~

 

It took Duck a surprisingly short amount of time to get everything together. He had a duffel bag that he filled with a change of clothes, a water bottle, some toiletries, and Beacon. Duck wasn’t sure if Beacon would be an asset or a hassle, but he felt like he should bring it just in case. Duck looked around at his room.

 

Less than 24 hours ago, everything had been perfect. Indrid had been here. In this very room, in that very bed, alive and okay and there. Duck had felt so certain that things were finally looking up for him. For both of them. Now Indrid was god-knows-where, probably losing his mind like Barclay had described.

 

Duck kicked at some laundry on the floor. That would have to wait until he got back. If he got back. No, he was going to come back, and he was going to bring Indrid back, and everything would be fine. Duck repeated that to himself. He had to believe it if he was going to get through this at all.

 

Winnie walked into the room and flopped down at Duck’s feet. Shit. What would happen to her if Duck didn’t come back? He didn’t know how long he would be gone for, either, even if he did come back. Duck filled up Winnie’s dry food and water, and then filled up an extra bowl of each as well. That should be enough for a few days, but Duck went over to the phone and dialled Leo’s store phone too.

 

“Hey Duck, how’s it going?” Leo answered.

 

“Hey Leo, I, uh, I’m gonna be going out of town for a few days, it’s a little random, I know, but can you feed Winnie for me?” Duck asked.

 

“Oh, yeah, sure, where ya going?” Leo asked.

 

“DC,” Duck answered. He had no idea really, but he figured he’d be in the area.

 

“Oh, nice. Is it for work?” Leo replied.

 

“Uh, yeah, got a last minute invite to a arboreal conservation conference,” Duck said.

 

“That sounds fun. How long you think you’re gonna be over there?” Leo asked.

 

“Well, uh,” Duck should have expected that question. He made up a number. “It goes for, um, a week, I think, but I might be back earlier or later than that depending on who’s there.”

 

“Alright. I’ll take care of Winnie for you, have fun at your conference!” Leo said.

 

“Thanks Leo, see you later,” Duck said.

 

“Bye Duck,” Leo said. Click.

 

A car honked outside. Duck figured it was the Pine Guard. He sighed, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left his apartment. Duck locked the door behind himself, hoping he would be back soon enough. He went out to the parking lot. Sure enough, Ned was driving Mama’s truck. Barclay was in the passenger seat, and Aubrey was behind him in the backseat.

 

Ned rolled down the window. “Bring your uniform.”

 

“What?” Duck frowned.

 

“We’re gonna need it for the plan,” Ned said simply. Duck was still confused. “Just go get it, we’ll explain on the way.”

 

“Okay,” Duck gave in.

 

He quickly went back to his apartment. Guess he got to see it again, at least. He rummaged through his dresser for his spare uniform. It might be a little small, but it would probably work. Duck didn’t even know what they were going to use it for. He stuffed it into his duffle bag, covering Beacon.

 

“ **I do not appreciate this arrangement** ,” Beacon snarled.

 

“Neither do I,” Duck said.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“I don’t know,” Duck muttered.

 

“ **You don’t KNOW? You aren’t SURE? You think that you will just drive and your destiny will happen to cross your path?** ” Beacon said.

 

“I don’t give a shit about my destiny right now,” Duck said.

 

“ **Oh, I see. This is about that man who was here. You are not quiet, Duck Newton** ,” Beacon sneered.

 

“Fuck off,” Duck said.

 

“ **I can’t, you see, I’m a talking sword, not a walking sword** ,” Beacon said. But it stayed quiet after that.

 

Duck walked out of his apartment for the second time, locked the door, and went downstairs. He left the building and got in the backseat of the truck.

 

“Got everything?” Ned asked.

 

“Yeah,” Duck replied.

 

“Alright. Barclay, dear, could you explain the plan?” Ned said. He started driving, out of the parking lot and down to the main road.

 

“You weren’t listening before, were you,” Barclay guessed.

 

“No, I just think you know it better than I do,” Ned waved him off.

 

“Okay. Basically, Duck, we know exactly where Stern’s car is, so we can follow him to wherever they’re taking Indrid,” Barclay explained, “Once we get there, we’ll figure out what the layout is, and then we can start on the next part of the plan.”

 

Ned cleared his throat.

 

Barclay shook his head. “Sorry, Act Two of the plan. We’re going to use you as our way in. You’re a government employee, and Indrid was arrested in your forest. Ned and I are gonna act like bodyguards--”

 

“We got suits and everything,” Ned said.

 

“Yeah. But we have some lines for you to memorize. Basically, we’re going to try and convince them that Agent Stern asked you to come in for questioning and as a consultant on the Mothman,” Barclay finished.

 

“Then what?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, since we don’t know anything about this place, it’s hard to plan ahead,” Barclay said.

 

“But you’re going with us,” Duck said, looking at Barclay. Their eyes met, and an understanding was reached.

 

“Yeah,” Barclay said.

 

“Okay. Great. So where are we going?” Duck asked.

 

“Prince William Forest Park,” Ned announced.

 

“I’m guessing they got some kinda facility there, right? Like it’s not just a bunch of military scientists in the forest,” Duck said.

 

“Who knows! We’ll find out when we get there,” Ned said.

 

Of course. Just like all the other things in Duck’s life, he had no idea. He looked over at Aubrey.

 

“You’ve been pretty quiet, Aubrey, what’s up?” Duck said.

 

Aubrey looked up at him, as if she was surprised he had addressed her. She pulled out the one earbud she had in. “What? Oh, nothing. I’m just, uh, I’m fine.”

 

“Are you gonna be infiltrating the CIA with us?” Duck asked.

 

“Not really,” Aubrey said, “I mean, I don’t really look like a government employee, with the hair and everything.”

 

“So-- I’m glad you’re here, for sure, but are you sure you wanna come with us? It’s gonna be dangerous,” Duck said.

 

“I know that. But I felt like I wasn’t doing anything, so I said I could run mission control from the car while you guys are doing stuff. I can stall Stern, too, if it comes to that,” Aubrey said. Her voice sounded stiff.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Duck asked.

 

“Yeah, no, I’m-- I’m great! Everything’s fine!” Aubrey said.

 

“It’s okay to be scared, if that’s what you’re--”

 

“It’s not that,” Aubrey said. She let out a breath. “I… Mama had me bring her a file, remember? And, she… she didn’t say not to look in it but I think it was implied ‘cause I looked at it and…”

 

“Aubrey?” Duck said, concerned.

 

“I guess I am a little scared, but not for myself,” Aubrey said, laughing nervously.

 

“Do you-- can you say what it was?” Duck asked.

 

“It was a list of names,” Aubrey said, “And I was reading it, and there was a lot of them. Like, 15 pages front and back. I got to the end, and I saw what the list was. It was the names of people who were kidnapped by the CIA after the last war. Sylvans. And some of them had an “X” by their name, and that meant they were confirmed dead. But it was less than half, so--”

 

Aubrey shuddered. Duck put his hand on hers. Aubrey looked frozen for a moment, which was strange. She was usually always moving around, fidgeting at the very least. Duck opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say, so he shut it again.

 

Aubrey sucked air in through her teeth and continued. “It’s possible that some of them are still alive, but if they don’t have a crystal, they might be, um, too far gone. Mama wanted me to see if there was anyone that could be saved, but she told me not to get my hopes up. There were a lot of names, Duck.”

 

Duck looked at Aubrey. She was wearing her sunglasses, but they had slipped down her face a little bit to reveal her mismatched eyes. Duck could see tears starting to form. He patted her hand and then withdrew.

 

“I promise I’ll help as many people as I can,” Duck said.

 

Aubrey looked up at him. “Can you promise you won’t die either?”

 

“I promise that too, ‘cause I really wasn’t planning on it. Would be a real wrench in my plans, y’know? I’d have to get someone to watch Winnie, and someone to cover my shift. Plus there’s all the paperwork, it’s pretty annoying,” Duck said. Aubrey laughed a little bit. Duck smiled helpfully and looked out the window. Maybe if he kept cheering other people up, he could cheer himself up too.

 

Outside, the pine trees sped past. Duck watched the sunlight flicker through them, letting his mind wander. He knew distantly that they were headed east. They would drive north and then get onto the I-81, then southeast towards Harrisonburg. From there, Duck wasn’t sure. He had only been to Prince Williams once, when he was in college. He had been way too blazed to drive then, so he wasn’t sure how to get there. He figured Ned knew, though, and that’s what mattered. Hopefully, Duck wouldn’t have to drive at all. He didn’t want to be the one responsible for damaging Mama’s truck.

 

The sameness of the pines lulled Duck into a daze. He zoned out, thinking faintly of what would happen if they did manage to pull this off. Indrid would be safe. But for how long? Duck figured the CIA wouldn’t take too kindly to one of their specimens being taken from under their noses. They would keep looking for him. Could they go back to Kepler? Would Duck have to choose between staying in his home and staying with Indrid?

 

As always, Duck had no answers. He didn’t know what he would do. Well, he did, because he was a self-sacrificial piece of shit who would do anything to protect his family. He would do anything for Indrid. Hell, he _was_ doing anything for Indrid. Leaving home on uncertain terms to lie his way into a government facility where he would probably get killed had to count for something. Duck knew that, if it came down to it, he would stick with Indrid. Obviously he hoped it didn’t, but there was no way of knowing.

 

Why had Duck become so reliant on Indrid’s powers? It was like the more Indrid told him, the less Duck tried to know things himself. He had succumbed so easily to the routine of being told what to do. Now he had to figure things out himself. This all sounded like a cliche “Chosen One” story, but Duck was living it in real time. And honestly? It sucked.

 

Duck looked forward through the windshield, over the back of Ned’s seat. The pine trees were still thick, making a tunnel around the road. Duck leaned back in his seat. It would still be at least another four hours. He had time to wallow in self-pity for a while.


	8. secrets under the tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck and the Pine Guard continue their rescue mission for everyone's favorite Mothman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys im sorry theres been no indrid content for two chapters! i know! i miss him too sdgsdlgksgdhl anyways yall are in for some twists and turns!

Car engine. Fuzzy outlines. Pine trees.

 

At some point, probably about an hour into the trip, Duck fell asleep. And he had a dream.

 

It was too realistic to be just a dream, though. Duck watched the familiar green-tinted rotoscoping shift around himself. This astral scene was set in a forest, but not Duck’s forest. The ground was lush with grass and shrubs. As always, there was no sound in this dream. It was like a silent movie. It was dark, too. Duck looked up. A cartoon-style moon hung directly above the clearing, creating a spotlight. Duck followed the beam down to the ground.

 

Lying there, creating a depression in the tall grass, was Indrid. He was about four feet away, with his arms behind his head. He didn’t acknowledge Duck at all. Duck walked closer, and Indrid didn’t move. Duck looked up at the moon again, now that he was partially inside the beam. 

 

Except it wasn’t the moon anymore. It was a window. Duck craned his neck to take it all in. It looked like a sunset in black and white. Then it started moving, becoming a loop of sunsets and sunrises and sunsets again. It sped up every time, until it made Duck dizzy to look at. Then it stopped on sunset again.

 

Duck looked down at Indrid. Indrid looked even thinner than usual, and the bags under his eyes were dark. His hair was splayed out over his arms and into the grass. Duck tried to ignore the pang in his chest. This wasn’t real, at least not yet. Indrid finally turned to look at him. Then he held up two fingers. Duck opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but he heard a distant voice.

 

“Duck.”

 

Duck shifted in real life. The crick in his neck became painfully obvious, and the voice spoke again.

 

“Duck, come on, we’re stopping for gas and food,” Aubrey said.

 

Duck blinked awake. He looked out the window where his forehead had been resting. They weren’t in Kepler, that’s for sure. Duck figured they had made it to DC already. The dream was still hanging at the edges of his eyes. It wasn’t a dream, and Duck knew that. It had been exactly two months since his last vision. He didn’t think he could still get them, but apparently the universe still had plans for him.

 

“Okay,” Duck said. He realized Ned and Barclay had already gotten out of the car.

 

“Do you want McDonald’s or Dairy Queen?” Aubrey asked.

 

“I don’t care,” Duck replied.

 

He got out of the car and met Aubrey on the sidewalk. They were in a small shopping center that was clearly more of a road stop. There was a gas station and a few fast food places around one parking lot. Aubrey led the way to the McDonald’s. Ned and Barclay were already inside, standing in line. Duck and Aubrey walked up to them.

 

“Hey guys, the usual?” Ned said.

 

“We’ve literally never been in a McDonald’s at the same time before,” Duck said.

 

“I know, I just thought it would be cool to say,” Ned said.

 

“I’ll just get nuggets,” Aubrey said.

 

“How many?” Ned asked.

 

“Surprise me,” Aubrey said.

 

“Don’t say that to him,” Barclay warned with a weary smile. “‘Cause he will, and you’ll regret it.”

 

“Fine, a ten-piece,” Aubrey grinned.

 

“What about you?” Ned looked at Duck.

 

“The same, I guess,” Duck said. He was hungry, since he skipped breakfast, but he didn’t really feel like eating.

 

“Alright,” Ned said, “Y’all can go use the bathroom or whatever, we don’t all need to stand here.”

 

“You trying to get rid of us?” Barclay smirked.

 

“Yeah, get out of here,” Ned grinned. Barclay kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

 

Duck tried not to gag. He couldn’t fault Ned and Barclay for being so… couple-y. That wasn’t even the problem. After all, Duck had had that same mushy teasing with Indrid, for all twelve of the hours they had been together. But it almost felt like they were rubbing it in. They were together, right now and right in front of Duck. He knew it wasn’t intentional, but it still hurt.

 

Instead of saying anything, Duck left, as he was prone to do. He went to the bathroom, and when he came back, Ned was sitting alone in one of the plastic booths. Duck slid into the seat across from him.

 

“Hey Duck,” Ned said.

 

“Hey,” Duck replied.

 

They both looked down at the table awkwardly for a minute. Duck eyed the stack of cups, thinking maybe he should go and get his drink. Before he could force himself to move, Ned spoke.

 

“I know this is hard,” Ned said. Duck looked up at him.

 

“What d’you mean?” Duck frowned.

 

“Well, I… I know it’s not easy, to lose someone like this,” Ned said, “I… something like this happened, just before I rolled into Kepler. He crashed us into a tree, driving down the highway, and he was unconscious, so I… left. Turned out he was alive, and he got arrested, and then when he got out he ruined my life, so maybe this isn’t a great comparison. But, I guess that’s the thing. You’re already doing way better than I was.”

 

“How’s that?” Duck said. He was still processing this new part of Ned’s backstory.

 

“Well, think about it. I ran away and didn’t look back. But you’re actively running into danger to get Indrid back,” Ned said.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Duck sighed, “I dunno, Ned, I’m not so sure about this. We don’t have anything to go off except a location. I don’t want y’all getting tangled up in this too.”

 

“Can I tell you something, Duck, and you promise you won’t take it the wrong way?” Ned asked.

 

“Alright,” Duck replied, unsure.

 

“I didn’t really want to come on this whole emancipation escapade. Don’t get me wrong, I want to help, but I got things to do in Kepler. I left Kirby in charge of the Cryptonomica, but I don’t know how long that’ll last,” Ned said.

 

“So then why’d you come?” Duck frowned.

 

“I’m here ‘cause I can’t let Barclay run into there on his own. Well, with you and Aubrey, but you know what I mean. He’s convinced that it was his fault that Indrid turned himself in, and guilt is one hell of a drug,” Ned said, “I guess I’m taking a page out of your book. I don’t know how much I can actually protect him, but it’s worth trying, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Duck said. He considered that. Ned was just as much a coward as Duck was, if not more so. If he was willing to drop everything to follow Barclay, then Duck could get himself together. And get Indrid out of whatever government hellhole they took him to.

 

Aubrey walked up to the table and grabbed one of the cups from the stack. “Barclay isn't back yet?”

 

“No,” Ned said.

 

Duck looked towards the door. Come to think of it, he hadn't noticed anyone else in the bathroom. He looked between Ned and Aubrey, and everyone seemed to come to the same conclusion.

 

“Do you think--”

 

“He wouldn't--”

 

“It's not--”

 

They all stopped as they interrupted each other. Duck gestured vaguely at Aubrey and Ned. Aubrey looked at Ned.

 

Ned furrowed his brows, glancing between all the exits. “You guys wait here, I'll go look--”

 

“Hey guys, what's going on?” Barclay said.

 

“Oh, nothing! We're fine,” Ned said, “Are you fine?”

 

“Not quite,” Barclay said. He pointed subtly to a grey SUV outside the window. “We're being tailed.”

 

“Where were you?” Ned asked.

 

“Hiding stuff in the car,” Barclay said.

 

“You think they're gonna search it?” Ned asked. He seemed a little too familiar with how law enforcement operated.

 

“Not yet, but definitely once we get closer,” Barclay said. 

 

“Should we go?” Aubrey asked.

 

“We have a little bit of time, but we should clear out as soon as we get food,” Barclay said.

 

As if on cue, the cashier called out their order. Ned stood up quickly, and Aubrey followed him to help carry everything. Then it was just Duck and Barclay, awkwardly looking past each other.

 

“This is too dangerous for y’all,” Duck said.

 

“I’ve already made up my mind, Duck,” Barclay sighed.

 

“I know, but I won’t get mad if you wanna go back. Same for Ned and Aubrey,” Duck said. He looked over at the people in question. “To be honest, I don’t know that I want Aubrey coming with. I know I can’t change her mind, but still. I mean, we’re all old and wizened, but Aubrey’s still young. If this goes south, it’s-- it’s gonna fall hardest on her.”

 

“I know what you mean,” Barclay said, “It’s weird, y’know, she’s always walking around the lodge like she’s got everything together, but then she’ll say something and it’s like ‘shit, kid, you’re only 20.’ And it’s not that she’s incompetent, ‘cause she’s real good at what she does, but she’s barely out of high school.”

 

“Yeah,” Duck said.

 

Aubrey was starting to walk back, balancing a bag on each arm. Ned seemed to be scolding her, so she effortlessly flipped the bags into her hands and carried them normally.

 

“Y’all gossiping over here?” Aubrey asked.

 

“Yeah, about you,” Barclay said. Aubrey grinned and shook her head.

 

“Let’s roll out,” Ned said, nodding toward the door. 

 

Duck took up the back of the group as they left the McDonald’s. They went out to the car and got in quickly. Duck glanced over at the tail car. It looked empty, but Duck wasn't sure. He just buckled his seat belt and held on as Ned started driving away. 

 

Barclay passed out all the food. They ate in silence as the scenery started to turn green again. Duck estimated they had about another half hour to go, so he couldn't go back to sleep. He was starting to get even more anxious. How would they get near the place at all? What if Stern had found the tracker and ditched it in the middle of the woods to throw them off? What if the security guards started shooting at them? There had to be security guards there. Would they even believe Duck? Probably not. He was a shit liar, and he was gonna get everyone killed. He remembered what Ned said earlier.

 

“So, okay, you said you had lines y'all wanted me to practice?” Duck asked.

 

“Yeah,” Barclay said, “Aubrey, you got the script, right?” 

 

“Yep!” Aubrey replied. She sounded anxious to the point of delirium. Duck understood the feeling.

 

Aubrey pulled a notebook out of her bag. She flipped it open to a seemingly random page. Duck didn't know she'd had so much time to prepare.

 

“How much am i gonna have to say?” Duck asked.

 

“Hopefully not much,” Ned said, “A good lie has no details.”

 

“Yeah, so, when we first go in, try and act kinda unsure? Like you got the message that Stern wanted you there but you didn’t understand why,” Aubrey said.

 

“Right,” Duck said, “What’s the story though?”

 

“Basically what you need to say is this: ‘I’m Duck Newton from the Monongahela National Forest.’ Starting with the truth so you can ease into the lying. Then you say ‘I was asked by Agent Stern to come to give some insight on the creature you caught in my woods.’ I know it’s fucked up to call Indrid a creature but that’s how you make it believable,” Aubrey said. Duck tried to take it all in.

 

“Okay, so like--” Duck cleared his throat. “I’m Duck Newton, from, uh, I’m a ranger with the Monongahela National Forest, and I heard from Agent Stern here that y’all caught a creature that was certainly not native to the area, and I was asked to, uh, see if I know anything about it.”

 

“Close enough,” Aubrey said.

 

“Really?” Duck raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well, you have the words, but it’s about the presentation-- never mind. Just get the words down, I’m sure you’ll be nervous enough when we get there,” Aubrey said.

 

“Hell, Aubrey, I’m fuckin’ nervous right now,” Duck said.

 

“Okay, well, uh, hmm,” Aubrey said. She looked at the notebook in her lap thoughtfully. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Try to play up the country bumpkin act. Play dumb. Not too dumb, don’t forget your name--”

 

“Yeah, we all saw  _ Into The Spider-verse _ , Aubrey,” Duck said.

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s actually a fairly good point of reference--”

 

“No, they literally got caught, remember?” Barclay said.

 

“Well, maybe she’s onto something. Think about it:  _ Spider _ -man.  _ Moth _ -man. There’s gotta be--”

 

“Will y’all stop it? This isn’t a fucking kids movie! We don’t even know the kind of fucked up shit going on in there. Just tell me what to say and I’ll memorize it or whatever,” Duck snapped. Everyone fell silent. Duck felt bad; they were just trying to lighten the mood. “Sorry.”

 

“No, Duck, it’s okay. This is… this is serious. We gotta do it right. We’re talking about someone’s life here,” Aubrey said. There she went, suddenly becoming the most mature person in the car. 

 

“Alright. Just-- read me the lines the way you would say them,” Duck said.

 

~☀~

 

The sun was almost set in the Prince Williams Forest Park. Duck was sitting on the edge of the open truck bed next to Aubrey, who was coaching him on facial tics. Ned and Barclay were struggling to set up a tent. Duck had offered to do it, but they had insisted it would be fine. Ten minutes later, though, they were still untangling all the poles.

 

“--so you’re gonna feel like you want to move your eyebrows, but don’t do it more than you normally would. I know that’s not super helpful, but just like, be chill, y’know?” Aubrey finished. Duck realized she was still talking to him.

 

“Yeah. Got it. Don’t be weird with eyebrows,” Duck said.

 

“Great,” Aubrey said, “I mean, that’s really all I can help you with, I’m sure Ned’s got some more tips about lying, but he’s busy.”

 

Duck looked over. Ned was swinging one of the half-assembled poles at Barclay, who blocked the attack with a folded up tarp. Aubrey was grinning at the scene like she was going to start placing bets. Duck slid off the edge of the truck and walked over. He caught the back end of Ned’s improvised sword before it hit him in the face.

 

“Knock it off, you two, we’re gonna wanna be inside before it gets dark. I’m not sure about fire regulations here, but I’m pretty sure the answer is do not start fires in a forest,” Duck said.

 

“What about a small fire inside the tent?” Ned suggested.

 

“Are you fucking insane? You can’t put a fire inside a tent, it’s all gonna go up in flames, plus there’s not proper smoke ventilation so you’d still die. It says it right there on the warning thing,” Duck said, pointing to the extremely blatant symbols on the canvas bag.

 

“Look, I can only have so many good ideas in a day,” Ned said, “Tracking Stern’s car used most of ‘em, and getting us here was the rest.”

 

“Then give me the tent and go figure out food,” Duck said.

 

“Fine,” Ned said. He handed Duck the tent poles he was holding and walked back to the truck. Barclay trailed after him.

 

Duck didn’t want to be upset at Ned. He wasn’t, really. He was just upset about everything else. And Ned wasn’t helping by messing around. Duck got to work setting up the tent, trying to dispel the misplaced bitterness growing under his tongue. Within minutes, it was ready to go. As Duck stood back to examine it, he heard the telltale sounds of muttered arguing from the truck. Probably about him, and how much of a dick he was being.

 

Instead of lingering on that, Duck started practicing his lines. He tried to stop hesitating so much, but he was really freaked out. He knew that once he actually got up to the door (assuming he made it to the door) he would lose it. He would forget everything they told him and he would get arrested or just killed on the spot. Fuck! Duck missed his superpowers. He thought about Beacon in his bag. It wouldn’t get past the metal detectors, but the idea of having a weapon was comforting. Ned had his Narf Blaster, which was plastic, so it would be fine. Barclay would be unarmed, but he was really strong. Duck used to be strong.

 

Suddenly, Duck’s wallowing was interrupted. Aubrey was walking up to him carefully. Duck tried not to look intimidating, but as he relaxed his shoulders he figured he probably just looked sad. Aubrey stopped a solid four feet away.

 

“We have sandwiches for dinner,” Aubrey said.

 

“Okay,” Duck said softly. His voice cracked, and Aubrey looked at him sympathetically. Duck felt pathetic.

 

“They’re not doing it to spite you,” Aubrey said.

 

“I know,” Duck said.

 

“And I’m-- I’m sorry. I know it’s not my fault, but we’ve all been acting like kids,” Aubrey said, “This is-- I mean I don’t know about them, but this is the first time any of the dangers I’ve faced have come from humans, and have been undeniably real. Like, bom-boms are one thing ‘cause they’re pretty obviously monstrous, but like, I’ve talked to Stern, and at first he didn’t seem like too bad a guy.”

 

“Yeah,” Duck said, “I don’t blame y’all for trying to lighten the mood. I mean, we all gotta cope somehow. It’s just when it feels like y’all ain’t taking this seriously that it’s like, why’d you even come in the first place. I’m sorry for yelling, too.”

 

“It’s alright, I mean, I’m not saying you should’ve but you’re upset, and lashing out is one of the most common side effects of grieving,” Aubrey said.

 

“I’m not-- I’m not grieving. Indrid’s still alive, I know he is, I saw him, and we’re gonna get him back. I’m just panicking about how we’re gonna pull that off,” Duck said.

 

“What do you mean you saw him?” Aubrey frowned.

 

“I-- ah shit. Well, earlier, when I was sleeping in the car, I had a vision,” Duck said.

 

“You did?” Aubrey exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, I did, but don’t be so loud. I didn’t know I could still get em, to be honest,” Duck said.

 

“What was it?” Aubrey asked.

 

“It was… I mean, they’re always hazy,” Duck said, looking down at the ground. “But this one was even weirder than normal. Maybe it got mixed in with a regular dream? I dunno. But it was a clearing in a forest, probably this forest, and Indrid was lying there in the grass, looking up at the moon that was casting a spotlight on him. I walked up to him, into the spotlight, and the moon turned into a window that showed the sunset, and then the sun kept rising and setting a bunch and then it stopped on a sunset again. And then Indrid held up two fingers, and then I woke up.”

 

Aubrey seemed to try to make sense of it. She put up two fingers and looked at them, like there was a meaning she was trying to remember. Duck didn’t know if he should say something. Aubrey looked up at Duck like she had an idea.

 

“How many sun cycles was it?” Aubrey asked.

 

“I dunno, probably at least ten,” Duck said.

 

“Maybe fourteen?” Aubrey suggested.

 

“What are you-- wait, like two weeks? And that’s what the two meant?” Duck realized.

 

“Yeah!” Aubrey nodded excitedly.

 

“Okay, but two weeks for what? Is it a deadline? Or do we have to wait until then?” Duck asked.

 

“I don’t know, Duck, it was your dream, I already solved part of it,” Aubrey said.

 

“We can figure it out later. Let’s eat so we can get in the tent for the night,” Duck said.

 

“Good plan,” Aubrey said.

 

They trudged back to the truck. Ned and Barclay were sitting across from each other in the bed. They were engaged in hushed conversation, but they stopped as Duck and Aubrey approached. Ned gestured for them to sit in the truck. Aubrey hopped up like it was no problem, and Duck managed to pull himself up. They got their sandwiches and water bottles and started eating.

 

It was completely dark now, aside from the electric lantern nestled between Ned and Barclay’s legs. The only real sounds were the crickets and frogs. Duck saw a bat swoop overhead. The stars were bright and distinct, out here where light pollution wasn’t so bad. Duck had to admire the forest. It was beautiful, if unfamiliar. The trees were thicker and the ground was softer and the animals were different, but it was nice. After a while, everyone was just sitting in silence. Duck figured no one wanted to break it. They did have to go into their tents soon, though, so he cleared his throat.

 

“Y’all think we should turn in?” Duck suggested.

 

“Yeah,” Barclay sighed.

 

Duck was the first to actually move. He dropped down from the truck, wincing as he hit the ground, and went around to his seat. He pulled his bag out and went over to the tent. Aubrey followed him, taking the lantern from Barclay and Ned. They started setting up the four sleeping bags Ned had rustled up. They put all four of them parallel, facing the door.

 

After a few minutes, Ned and Barclay came into the tent. It wasn’t especially big, so all four of them could barely fit hunched over. Aubrey sat down on her sleeping bag, the one to the far left. Ned and Barclay claimed the two on the right, so Duck sat down on the middle-left one.

 

“What time is it?” Ned asked.

 

Aubrey pulled out her phone. Duck was surprised she had it. Cell phones were basically useless in Kepler, but obviously Aubrey wasn’t from Kepler. 

 

She said, “It’s almost seven.”

 

“Huh,” Duck said. It got so dark in the winter, it was easy to forget that evening existed.

 

“Not really time to go to sleep, huh?” Ned said.

 

“I dunno, I think I’m gonna go to sleep. It’s not like I got anything better to do,” Duck said, starting to get into his sleeping bag. “Wake me up before y’all go to sleep so I can keep lookout for any government assassins.”

 

“Alright,” Barclay said.

 

“G’night, Duck,” Aubrey said.

 

“Night,” Duck replied.

 

He laid down in his sleeping bag. It was awkward, because everyone else was just looking at him silently. Duck tried to ignore it. Hopefully they would start talking. Silence.

 

“Y’all can still talk,” Duck said. To prove his point, he pulled the sleeping bag as far over his head as he could.

 

Aubrey started talking in a low voice, but Duck couldn’t make out the words. He was still tired from being awake for most of last night. He released as much tension from his muscles as he could and let sleep overtake him.

 

~☀~

 

The next morning was disorienting, to say the least. Duck heard birds chirping and unfamiliar snoring. He felt the bone-deep chill that only came from sleeping outside. When Duck finally opened his eyes, he remembered where he was. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

 

The scene inside the tent was weirdly peaceful, in the way a regular camping trip would be. Ned and Barclay had combined their sleeping bags into one mass of warmth. The snoring seemed to be coming from that direction as well. On Duck’s other side, a lump that was most likely Aubrey was pushed up against the far side of the tent. Duck wondered how often everyone else camped. He wasn’t a regular camper, but judging from this vignette and last night, he was the most experienced one there.

 

With a sigh and several cracking noises, Duck stretched. He reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag. It was pretty damn cold, but hopefully the chill would go away as the sun warmed things up. Duck went to find a place to use the bathroom. When he came back, he heard voices from inside the tent. He unzipped the door and stepped in.

 

“Hey, Duck,” Ned said.

 

“Hey,” Duck said.

 

“We were just talking about what time we should go over. We don’t wanna go too early, because then they might be suspicious,” Barclay said.

 

“Hell, they’re gonna be suspicious anyway, what are we waiting for?” Duck said.

 

“Her, for one,” Barclay said, pointing at Aubrey. She was closer to the middle of the tent now, and her curly crimson hair was sticking out, but she was still asleep.

 

“We’ve been trying to wake her up for ten minutes,” Ned said.

 

“You think she’s okay?” Duck frowned.

 

“Yeah, she usually takes a while to wake up,” Barclay said, “It would help if Dani were here, she’s usually able to speed up the process.”

 

“But we’re leaving Aubrey here, right?” Duck asked.

 

“Unless she has a convincing argument,” Barclay said.

 

“I feel bad about leaving her behind,” Duck said. He really didn’t want to lose anyone else.

 

“She can take care of herself. Besides, it’s better than going into the belly of the beast, as it were,” Ned said.

 

“I know, I’m just worried about everyone,” Duck said.

 

“I can hear you,” Aubrey’s muffled voice interjected.

 

“But you can’t get up?” Ned teased.

 

“It’s a process,” Aubrey said.

 

“Uh-huh,” Ned said.

 

“It’s cold,” Aubrey said.

 

“You’re the fire wizard here, kid,” Barclay said.

 

“No fires in the tent,” Aubrey said.

 

“Do a magic fire,” Ned said.

 

“No,” Duck cut in.

 

“I’m getting up,” Aubrey said. She wriggled out of her sleeping bag, hair mussed and clothes rumpled. An exaggerated shiver rippled through her.

 

“Alright, should we start getting ready?” Duck asked.

 

Various noises of agreement echoed in the small space. They took turns getting dressed in the tent. Barclay got some granola bars out of the truck and passed them out. He and Ned were in their suits, and Duck was in his uniform. Aubrey was wearing the same clothes she had slept in, and she went over Duck’s lines with him.

 

Despite the imminent doom that likely awaited, Duck felt a spark of confidence. He felt like most of the time, he was bad at lying because he couldn’t come up with any on the spot. Now he had a script, a plan even. And he could build bullshit around it to counter any unexpected questions. He could do this! He was going to go in there and get Indrid out and everything would be fine.

 

“You ready?” Barclay asked. Duck looked over.

 

“About as ready as I can be,” Duck said.

 

“Let’s go,” Ned said, “Aubrey, you know what to do, right?”

 

“Yep,” Aubrey said.

 

“Alright then. See you hopefully later!” Ned said. A nervous laugh betrayed how scared he was feeling.

 

Duck got into the truck and stared resolutely at the back of the driver’s seat. He was going to do this, and he definitely wasn’t going to back out, and he was going to figure it out step-by-step. The truck started up, and then they were driving over uneven ground toward the supposed location of Agent Stern’s car.

 

It wasn’t a very long drive. The park itself wasn’t especially large, so it made sense. But Duck would have liked maybe a little more time to compose himself. He combed his fingers through his hair. It was a little bit tangled, but hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. He was supposed to look professional. Somehow, Ned looked like a professional. Barclay a little less so, but still put-together.

 

The landmark that matched the coordinates of the tracker was a beige shipping container turned storage unit. It had a National Park Service logo stamped onto the side and a cheap plexiglass window embedded in the side. A few cars were parked alongside it. Duck recognized two of them: Agent Stern’s car, and the car that had been following them.

 

“I dunno y’all, this seems too easy,” Duck said.

 

“Well, we’ll see once we get inside,” Ned said. He parked next to Agent Stern’s car and turned off the engine.

 

“Okay, wait, are we sure? Like this is for sure the real place and not a trap?” Duck asked.

 

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Ned replied.

 

“I know-- I just-- shit, this is gonna go bad, huh,” Duck said.

 

“We’re not getting anything done just sitting here. They haven’t shot us yet, so we might as well go inside,” Barclay said.

 

“Alright, okay, let’s do this,” Duck said.

 

He got out of the car and went towards the metal door at one end of the unit. Ned and Barclay were on either side of him. They were surprisingly good at this. Duck reached out slowly, carefully, and grabbed the door handle. To his surprise, it was unlocked. It opened inward, and Duck prayed to whoever was listening that there wasn’t some kind of alarm attached to it.

 

No sirens rang out through the trees, no turrets activated, and no one appeared in front of them. Duck opened his eyes. There were no mad scientists, but it wasn’t just boxes either. It looked like a lobby, paneled with steel and a simple wooden desk. The desk was clear, and no one was sitting in the matching office chair. Duck looked for any tripwires or pressure plates. There were none. He stepped forward into the room. Still nothing. Duck had half-expected a hologram to appear and call him out. It was still quiet, though. Just their footsteps on the concrete floor. 

 

Duck walked up to the desk. Fuck it! If this was the place they were looking for, someone would find them eventually. If it wasn’t, then they could do whatever. He scrutinized the flat surface, looking for who-knows-what. It looked like a regular desk.

 

“Hey, do you think these buttons do anything?” Ned asked. 

 

Duck looked up. Sure enough, on the wall behind the desk, there was two buttons. One had an arrow pointing down. The other looked like an emergency button.

 

“You think it’s a puzzle?” Duck asked, “No, that’s dumb, this isn’t Portal. Push the arrow one.”

 

“You do it!” Ned said, jumping back.

 

“I will,” Duck said. He pushed the button.

 

The ding that rang through the room scared the shit out of Duck.The desk slid to the side, and an elevator platform surrounded by metal grate moved up into the room. It looked like something that might be in a mine. Duck couldn’t look down the elevator shaft to tell if that’s actually what it was.

 

“Shall we?” Duck said, trying to keep his face neutral. This was his mission, he had to lead the way.

 

“No,” Ned laughed nervously.

 

“Okay, well, I’m going,” Duck said. 

 

He grit his teeth and furrowed his brow as he stepped into the elevator. Barclay followed him gingerly, and Ned dragged his feet but stepped onto the platform. There was a complicated keypad attached to the wall, but the elevator started sinking before Duck could press any buttons.

 

“Shit,” Duck muttered.

 

“We’re gonna die here,” Ned said.

 

“Stop,” Barclay said, “It’s just an elevator.”

 

“To hell!” Ned exclaimed. Duck shushed him.

 

The elevator was low enough now that they could see the outer walls through the grate. They were all steel, with bright fluorescent lights at regular intervals. Duck tried not to panic. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but he had no idea how far this elevator would take them, or if it would let them back out.

 

After what felt like hours, they reached the bottom. Two stainless steel doors were in front of them. The elevator doors slid open, and then these new doors, revealing a bright white waiting room. Duck stepped out into the room. He was too far to turn back, and any new consequences couldn’t be worse than being trapped in a weird elevator. He felt Ned and Barclay behind him. At this point, he was glad they were there. He could not have gotten this far without them.

 

“Hello, sir? Are-- are you extremely lost?” someone said.

 

Duck looked over. A man in a pristine white lab coat was standing there. He was gripping a clipboard like he might have to hit Duck over the head with it.

 

“No, um, I’m here for Agent Stern? He asked me to come here so he could talk to me about a creature he caught in my forest-- oh what am I doing, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Duck Newton, I’m a forest ranger with the Monongahela National Forest,” Duck said. He messed it up, but hopefully this scientist wouldn’t know better.

 

“Dammit, Stern. Of course he gets a civilian involved, can’t do his own job,” the man muttered, looking over his clipboard. Suddenly he looked up and gestured to Ned and Barclay. “Who are these two?”

 

“The uh, bodyguards? Security escorts? I’m not too sure, but, uh, they picked me up and brought me here,” Duck lied. He was doing pretty okay so far.

 

“Alright. I’ll send Stern over, but you’ll have to do a security screening to get clearance to any of the labs. Try not to mess with anything,” the man said. He stalked down the hallway he presumably came from.

 

Duck looked between Ned and Barclay. Had he actually managed to pull off a lie? He would celebrate if it weren’t for the fact that he could probably get murdered at any moment. Duck listened for any sounds of anger or hostility. The room was completely silent, until two sets of footsteps echoed through the hallway.

 

Agent Stern walked into the room. Duck’s gut boiled just looking at him. Stern didn’t look upset or surprised to see him there. In fact, he looked incredibly pleased. The scientist man was scribbling on his clipboard and muttering about paperwork. Stern ignored him as he began to speak.

 

“Mr. Newton, how nice of you to show up! I know it’s a little out of your way, but it was very important that you came.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, anything for a fellow law enforcement officer,” Duck said.

 

“Great. Come with me, you can leave the guards behind, and we’ll have a chat,” Stern said.


	9. under the edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck is in the belly of the beast, but the beast is government experiments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops this chapter is Super Dark! some death mentions, threatening, violence, needles, allegories for the institutionalization of mentally ill people, dehumanization of prisoners, you name it. if any of those things upset you (bc even i was upset writing it) please do not read. i promise next chapter will still be understandable if you skip this one.  
> anyways indrid is finally back! kind of

White lights. White plaster walls. White glass.

 

The room was incredibly bright around Duck’s vision as he tried to formulate a response. His mouth opened and shut, and then he remembered half of one of his lines. It didn’t fit the situation, though, so Duck cast it aside. He figured it would be easiest to just go along with it.

 

“Great, yeah, let’s go,” Duck said. He remembered the codes Aubrey had made up and looked back at Ned and Barclay. “Um, excuse me, uh, sirs, uh, I’m going with him.”

 

Supposedly different titles would indicate different things. That’s what Aubrey had said, at least. Duck picked the one that meant “try to look for me if I don’t come back” but it would be useless if Aubrey didn’t say anything to Ned or Barclay. Duck looked back at Agent Stern and nodded weirdly.

 

“Alright then, Mr. Newton, since I  _ did _ ask you to come to this top secret lab to identify a creature we captured, I suppose I can take you to see it. I think someone is going to be interrogating it soon, we'll sit in on that,” Agent Stern said. Duck didn't miss the targeted lying, but he pretended he did.

 

“Alright, uh, that's great, I mean, I got a job I need to get back to, so the faster we get this over with the better,” Duck said.

 

“That's understandable. We all live very busy lives,” Stern said.

 

“Right,” Duck nodded.

 

Stern beckoned for Duck to follow him. They went through one set of heavy steel doors with a simple keycard. Then they were in a short hallway lined with plastic suits on hooks. Stern took one and put it on over his clothes. He gestured for Duck to do the same. Duck put one on. Was there some sort of contamination agent in the labs, or was the CIA just paranoid? Duck knew that at the very least, Indrid was not poisonous.

 

Once they were done suiting up, Stern opened the other end of the hall. Duck went through, and heard the door click shut behind him. It sounded very final. Agent Stern was leading him down what looked like an office hallway. Duck caught glimpses of desks and computers through shuttered windows. Honestly, it would look very normal, if everything wasn’t so pristine and light.

 

“So, Mr. Newton, you managed to find your way here,” Stern said.

 

“Um, yeah,” Duck replied awkwardly.

 

“Which was it? The clue I left at the campgrounds, or the tracker in my car?” Stern asked.

 

“The, uh, the tracker. You knew I was coming?” Duck answered.

 

“Nuh-uh, Mr. Newton, I’m the one asking questions here,” Stern said, “The better question, anyways, is why did you come?”

 

“Why I came?” Duck repeated.

 

“Don’t play dumb,” Stern snapped.

 

“I came for Indrid,” Duck said sincerely.

 

“And do you know who Mr. Cold really is?” Stern said.

 

Duck knew he should definitely play dumb now, but he couldn’t help being snide. “My friend that you kidnapped from his home?”

 

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion. It was a matter of safety for Kepler. You’ll find out in just a minute who your friend really is,” Stern said. 

 

Duck didn’t reply; he was too busy trying to figure out Stern’s angle. He sounded like he wanted Duck to admit what he knew. Duck wasn’t going to give him that, though, and Stern knew that. Stern was trying to confuse him into confessing. Duck might be an absolute dumbass, but he wasn’t naive.

 

Stern came to a stop in front of a thick metal door. It was white like the rest of the facility. Stern scanned an ID card and the lock clicked open. He opened the door and gestured for Duck to enter. Duck hesitated for just a second, but he went inside. It was just a small room, with a window looking into another, larger room. 

 

That larger room had medium grey walls, so Duck could physically see that it was supposed to be a threatening place. There was a single steel table in the middle, bolted to the floor. A metal stool was on one side of the table, and on the other, a metal chair that looked like a torture device. It looked like a slightly-deranged interrogation room. As if to really drive that point home, the lock on the door clicked shut behind Agent Stern.

 

“In about one minute, we are going to be interrogating your friend. Like you said, you know him as Indrid Cold, but I think his true form will be familiar as well,” Stern said.

 

Duck opened his mouth to ask why Stern thought that, to try and throw him off. Then he remembered how snippy Stern got about questions. Stern noticed his struggle, and seemed coldly amused by it. Then the sound of a lock opening echoed through the empty rooms.

 

Duck was motionless as two security guards all but carried moth-Indrid through the door to the interrogation room. They set him down roughly in the torture chair. Duck tried to figure out if Indrid was hurt at all. He looked shaky, but he did have his crystal necklace around his neck. Stern looked at Duck knowingly, but Duck ignored him. He couldn't let on that he knew who this creature was. Indrid looked over with glowing red eyes at the two-way mirror like he knew Duck was there. He definitely did. 

 

The interrogating agent walked in behind the security guards. The guards shut the door and blocked it behind them. The agent sat down on the stool across from Indrid. They cleared their throat like they were trying to get Indrid’s attention. Indrid turned sharply to face them.

 

“Tell me about your home, Mr. Cold,” the agent said. The words weren't hostile, but the cold tone made it a demand.

 

“Oh, if that’s all you wanted to know, I could have told you without you threatening me. I live with my boyfriend in this lovely little apartment. Well, it’s his apartment, but I've basically moved in,” Indrid said, “It's a one-bed, one-bath, but it's pretty spacious, especially considering how old the building is. And we have a cat, she's very sweet but she does steal my socks. And sometimes when it--”

 

“I mean your original home,” the agent interrupted.

 

“Oh, you mean my Winnebago? Why didn’t you say so? There's not much to tell about it, honestly. It's getting pretty old, but it's still nice. I have all my space heaters in it, so it's very cozy. Actually, I just finished cleaning it when you came to pick me up,” Indrid said.

 

“You know what I mean, Mr. Cold,” the agent scowled, “Tell me about Sylvain.”

 

“Sylvain?” Indrid said curiously.

 

“The planet that you are from, that you came from through the portal in New York. I know you know what I'm talking about,” the agent said.

 

“Well, I'd love to tell you about Sylvain, but I'm afraid I haven't been there in quite a while,” Indrid replied.

 

“Why is that?” the agent asked.

 

“Well, you can understand that people wouldn't take too kindly to their whole planet being destroyed. And technically, on a very complex level, it was my fault. Naturally, I was exiled,” Indrid said.

 

Duck's heart constricted. He tried to remain neutral-looking but he so desperately wanted to call out to Indrid. Indrid glanced at the mirror again. This time, he made direct eye contact with Duck. Duck set his jaw. He just had to keep listening in case Indrid said something important.

 

“I see,” the agent said. They checked their watch. “That's disappointing. I was hoping that you would have more insight.”

 

“I'm not lying about being exiled. Why do you think I didn't call it my home? I haven't been allowed back since I left this place,” Indrid said.

 

“Since you escaped,” the agent corrected.

 

“I haven't committed any crimes, so I don't see why I need to be detained,” Indrid countered.

 

“Illegally migrating from another planet could be considered a crime,” the agent said.

 

“Not usually the FBI's jurisdiction though, is it,” Indrid said. He was sitting with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times.

 

“You know why you're here. You're an extraterrestrial being with unidentified abilities and motives. You could be a threat to the general public,” the agent said.

 

“Tell me, agent, have I committed any crimes, terroristic or otherwise, since I left this facility over 40 years ago?” Indrid asked.

 

“I'm the one asking the questions here,” the agent seethed. Duck could tell they were getting tired of Indrid's mind games.

 

“Then let me spell it out for you. My goals are currently: be alive, go home, be with my boyfriend and our friends,” Indrid said.

 

“And who is this boyfriend you keep mentioning?” the agent asked. Duck felt himself twitch but he tried to keep looking normal.

 

“If I tell you, you'll bring him here, and I don't want that,” Indrid said. Duck breathed again.

 

“Why not? We could keep you in adjacent rooms. You could have meals together,” the agent said.

 

“I wouldn't wish this place on my worst enemies, though most of you are already here,” Indrid said. He looked slightly towards the mirror again, and this time he was glaring at Stern.

 

“If you won't tell us anything, how are we supposed to believe you?” the agent asked.

 

“I don't think I've given you a reason not to believe me,” Indrid said.

 

The agent shot Indrid a dark look. Duck held his breath. Indrid stayed perfectly still, which would be normal if he hadn't been trembling the whole time. The agent looked at their watch again.

 

“Well, we can talk again tomorrow,” the agent said. 

 

They signaled to the security guards standing at the door and stood up. The guards parted to let them through. Once the door slid shut again, the two guards moved to either side of Indrid. Indrid stood up complacently and was physically escorted out of the room. Duck watched the door slide shut and turned to Stern.

 

“Is that him? He’s Mothman?” Duck asked, trying to play up the disbelief.

 

“Yes, that is, supposedly, Indrid Cold. Probably a fake name,” Stern remarked. He wanted Duck to correct him, and Duck wasn’t going to do that.

 

“Really? I mean, shit, I didn’t think the Mothman was in my forest,” Duck said.

 

“Well, he’s here now, so you won’t have to worry about him anymore. And all of those things about a boyfriend? They aren’t true. He has some kind of extra-sensory ability, probably sight based, so he knew you were someone who didn’t work here. He was trying to get you to pity him. The Mothman is extremely manipulative,” Stern said. Duck wanted to knock his teeth out, but he knew that would only prove him right.

 

“That’s… wow,” Duck said through gritted teeth, “I can’t believe it.”

 

“Most people don’t, which is for the best,” Stern said. He unlocked the door and gestured Duck through.

 

“So, uh, I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but what exactly do you need me here for?” Duck asked.

 

“We'll get to that. I think a tour of the laboratories is in order first,” Stern said.

 

They passed an open hallway with a few scientists in it. Stern ignored them, but Duck overheard the words “radiation” and “cellular erosion.” Not a very comforting thing to hear in a secret government laboratory. They passed a few more white office doors, and then Stern pointed at a set of black doors with a guard on either side.

 

“This is our experimentation department. We’ll look through here quickly before we get to the next area,” Stern said. 

 

The guards looked hesitant to let Duck through, but Stern waved a dismissive hand and they stepped aside. Stern scanned his keycard, pressed his thumb to a reader, and then typed in a passcode. Clearly this was a more important part of the building than the hallways they had been walking through. Once the door finally cracked open, like the room behind it was pressurized, Stern led Duck inside.

 

There were three immediate differences that Duck noticed. One, everything was grey. Concrete floors, steel paneled walls, polished metallic countertops. Two, this place was much more chaotic. It looked like an industrial workshop that had been organized by a two-year-old. Three, it was busy. There were at least ten people at various equipment stations, and more people were entering and leaving with hurried gaits. In short, it was the first human-feeling place in the whole facility.

 

“We’re using this main lab here to synthesize chemicals found in Sylvain creatures. So far, we’ve isolated three elements that were previously unknown to Earth,” Stern said, like he was a museum tour guide and not a piece of human garbage.

 

“That’s cool,” Duck said. It was not cool at all.

 

“I know. I’m sure one of these people here could explain it to you, but we have other things to do. Let’s go, there’s one thing in particular that you might find interesting,” Stern said.

 

Stern started walking towards the back of the lab. Duck dodged busy scientists as he tried to keep up. He wondered if those scientists cared about the people they were experimenting on. Probably not. Duck had met people, back in his college days, who prioritized the good of “the country” or “mankind” over actual living people. He had sincerely hoped they might have gotten over that, but he was starting to realize that those people really just got jobs.

 

“Right in here,” Stern said, walking through an open door.

 

Inside this smaller room was what appeared to be a display case on an operating table. Inside the display case was a thin strip of metal with glowing blue edges. Duck was instantly glad that he had left Beacon at the campsite. Stern looked incredibly smug.

 

“This metal did not match any sample from here or Sylvain. We aren’t even sure how its matter is connected. It’s malleable, but not brittle, and it glows blue like it contains magic. Would you happen to know anything about it?” Stern explained.

 

“I… I mean, no?” Duck said. He hoped his anxiety translated to confusion.

 

Stern looked frustrated. “It would be very useful for weapons, especially melee blades like a longsword or rapier.”

 

“I don’t know too much about, uh, weapon-smithing, so I’ll believe you,” Duck said.

 

“That’s not-- I’ve seen you with a magical sword, Mr. Newton. Would you like to explain its origin or will I have to threaten you for it?” Stern snapped. 

 

Duck remained perfectly still. He looked Stern right in his cold, calculating eyes. The seething hatred for the man in front of him let Duck ignore the fear building under his spine. He couldn’t let Stern intimidate him. He couldn’t let Stern win.

 

“I reckon I’d remember if I had a cool sword, agent,” Duck said coolly. 

 

“Of course you would.” Stern narrowed his eyes. “Come with me.”

 

This time, Duck knew he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t doubt that Stern had the means to back up his threats. But he was tired of cowering. Stern was on some kind of mental warpath, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He wanted Duck to be there, most likely to either study or kill him. If Duck was going to die anyway, he might as well die like a badass. At least then he might be able to make Indrid smile one last time.

 

There was no false enthusiasm in this stretch of the tour. It wasn’t even a tour anymore. Stern was taking Duck somewhere, and Duck had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well. He knew that he should start thinking about exit strategies, or at least figure out what was going on. But some dark part of him wanted to just wait and see how things went. What could he even do? If he tried to run, he would get shot before he realized he didn’t know where to go.

 

Stern walked up to a set of medium grey doors at the very end of the white hallway. This one had even more security measures: keycard swipe, a retinal scan, a typed password, a full handprint scan, a voice recognition test, and a breathalyzer. Duck held his breath as Stern unlocked the door. He had a feeling about what was on the other side. Sure enough, as Stern shoved him through, Duck’s fears were confirmed.

 

It was a dark, narrow hallway. Every ten feet or so, on alternating sides, were thick steel cell doors. There were big tinted windows looking into each cell, like some kind of twisted zoo. Stern was walking deliberately toward the back. The death row confidence Duck had momentarily developed was fading fast. He focused on the floor, trying to remain calm. When he looked up at one of the windows they were passing, he caught a glimpse of a vaguely humanoid shape slumped against the far wall. He averted his eyes and tried to erase that image from his mind. They wouldn’t just keep dead people in there, right?

 

As they approached the end of the hallway, Duck heard voices. They weren’t speaking any language he could recognize. He risked a glance toward the cell the noise was coming from. Inside appeared to be a single anthropomorphic bird, looking at their reflection in a scratched-up mirror. They were talking in several voices at once, but they didn’t seem especially distressed. Duck looked away.

 

On the other side, there was just a mound of grass with a few sickly-looking white flowers. Duck looked closer. He could make out what looked like orange glitter sprinkled across it. Then the mound shifted, and an old woman’s face appeared on the underside. She had solid orange eyes, but they weren’t glowing like the Sylphs Duck knew. Despite her battered state, she looked almost smug, like she was letting Duck in on some kind of secret. Duck nodded slightly, and the face disappeared. 

 

Stern came to an abrupt stop. He put his eye up to the window on their left. This one was so heavily tinted that it was impossible to see through. Duck stood back in the middle of the hallway. Was he supposed to look too? Before he figured it out, Stern stepped back.

 

“Your friend is in here. Go on, take a look,” Stern said.

 

Now that Duck’s moment of defiance had worn off, he didn’t hesitate to walk up to the window. It was probably a trap. He couldn’t fight it, though, so he squinted through the thick glass. There was a single distinct shape that Duck could make out. As his eyes adjusted, he could see Indrid’s fuzzy black torso and wings. Indrid was sitting on the floor, facing away from the window. He was perfectly still. Duck wondered if Indrid could see them anyway.

 

“Now, you heard him in the interview room. He was being… insubordinate. And this is where he is now. Do you think that’s something you would want to happen to you?” Stern asked.

 

“I guess I just don’t understand why I’m here,” Duck said, “Like, I don’t-- I don’t really know anything about Sylv--the, uh, Sylvain place you keep saying. And I’m not from there, obviously. I’m a regular human-ass dude, last time I checked.”

 

That wasn’t a lie. Duck really was completely human. He didn’t have magic powers or armor or anything. His magic weapon, his last tie to the extraordinary, was at the bottom of his duffle bag, at least a few miles from this place.

 

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation, Mr. Newton.” Stern’s voice dropped. He was beyond threatening. He was promising. “I know that there is something different about you, and your friends at Amnesty Lodge. You are going to tell me about them, or else you can starve to death in here with the rest of the monsters.”

 

Duck felt like he was going through the stages of grief backwards. For a moment, he was willing to accept his sentence. Then he wondered if he could negotiate something different. He knew he wasn’t a good enough salesman to do that, so he briefly felt like this whole thing was hopeless. He was angry that Stern had so much power over him, over Indrid, over all of them. Duck wasn’t going to stand there and tell Stern everything. He had made a promise, to himself at least, that he wasn’t going to be a coward anymore. 

 

“Like I said,” Duck sneered, “I don’t know anything.”

 

“Alright.” Stern pressed a button on his ID card.

 

Instantly, the lights in the hallway turned red. Duck could see clearly through the tinted glass. Indrid looked up slightly, still facing away from the window.

 

“We have about forty seconds before the guards will come and detain you. If you tell me something, just one thing, about the people of Amnesty Lodge, then I will call them off,” Stern said. Duck didn’t move. He just glared at Stern. In the dim, blood-red light, Stern looked like a classic villain. “I’m waiting.”

 

“I. Don’t. Know. Anything.”

 

The way that Stern’s face changed was surprising. Duck had expected frustration, or rage, or even disappointment. He wasn’t prepared for the sinister, oily grin that Stern was giving him. Somehow, that was even more terrifying. Duck knew monsters, and he knew animals, but this malice was entirely human. It was purposeful, it was driven, and it was choosing to be evil. The red lights throughout the hallway made Stern almost cartoonishly nefarious.

 

Behind Duck, the doors opened. Military-grade stomping echoed off the concrete and steel. He didn’t turn around. He was going to look Stern in his vicious eyes until the physically removed him. From the sounds of the approaching guards, that would be pretty soon. Duck felt his arms being grabbed roughly, and then the stab of a needle. A tranquilizer, probably.

 

As Duck was fading out, he heard Stern speak again. “I could tell you were wondering why it’s so easy to get into the facility. The fact of the matter is, it isn’t meant to keep people out. It’s meant to keep the monsters in.”

 

“You’re the monster here,” is what Duck tried to say, but he was fairly sure it didn’t come out right.

 

Stern raised an eyebrow. He said something else, but Duck didn’t hear it. His vision was darkening. He was out before he hit the floor.

 

~☀~

 

Duck was completely sure he was dreaming. Still, that wasn’t enough for him to wake up. He was suspended in a dark space with no definite horizon. Occasionally, beams of multicolored lights would drift through the air above him. Despite the uncertainty of this space, Duck felt artificially peaceful. Like there was something he should be worried about, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Time wasn’t very clear in the dream limbo, either. Duck attempted to count the seconds between the light effects. He kept losing track. His brain couldn’t even understand the numbers he was saying. And he wasn’t even saying them, it was more like projecting them. He wasn’t sure if sound even existed in this space.

 

Eventually, after some hazy amount of time, Duck saw the edges of the world fading to white. He figured that he was waking up. Reality filtered through the light, hitting Duck with the force of a hundred trucks. Right. That was why he was so stressed out.

 

When Duck was finally able to open his eyes, he came face to face with the light that was invading his dream. It was one of the fluorescent tube lights that illuminated the secret torture laboratory. He slowly adjusted to the brightness and looked around the room. It wasn’t very big, maybe four feet in each direction from whatever Duck was on. The walls were medium grey, with a matching door in the far corner. 

 

Duck moved his arms a little bit. He didn’t appear to be restrained. With slow, aching movements, he managed to sit up. He was wearing a plastic fiber hospital gown that stuck to his skin. At least that proved to them that he didn’t have a disguise accessory. Below him was a hard mattress with a plastic cover, inset into a padded bed frame that was flush to the ground and bolted down. In the corner opposite the door was a toilet and a sink with a dented mirror over it.

 

Well, shit. Duck hadn’t exactly been sure what would happen if he resisted Stern’s questioning. This seemed like the obvious answer, but Duck had been too caught up in the adrenaline to think about it. Now he was stuck. Trapped. Imprisoned indefinitely for… existing, Duck figured. Stern knew that something was up with Duck beyond involvement with Sylvain. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on Duck. In all the time he had superpowers, he didn’t do shit and he didn’t say shit. The minute he lost them, though, he was supposed to explain them. Wasn’t that just fucking excellent.

 

The lock on the door clicked. Duck froze. It swung open, revealing a young woman in a white lab coat. She looked familiar in a way Duck couldn’t quite place. She closed the door behind herself and stood in front of Duck.

 

“Good, you’re up. That tranquilizer turned out to be a little stronger than necessary. We thought you might not wake up,” the woman said. 

 

Duck realized who it was. Amber, the bartender from the Pine Sap, was standing in front of him. Her hair was brown, not red, and her piercings were gone, but the glasses were the same. It made sense, she had come into town not too long before Stern. A twisted sense of anger hovered in Duck’s mind. Of-fucking-course she was in on it.

 

“Am I-- are you gonna run tests on me?” Duck asked. He didn’t want to reveal that he knew her, in case that made it worse.

 

“Technically, we can’t, until you sign this release form. However, I think you’ll find it pretty compelling,” the scientist said. She flipped through the pages on her clipboard and pulled one out. Then she pulled an ink pad from one of her pockets. “Just stamp your fingerprint on that line here, and you’ll be good to go.”

 

“I’m guessing there’s no point in resisting?” Duck asked.

 

“No, of course. We have armed guards outside who will terminate you at a moment’s notice,” the scientist said.

 

“Alright then. Does it matter which finger?” Duck said.

 

“No, as long as it’s yours,” the scientist said.

 

“Great.” Duck stuck out his right middle finger and stamped it on the paper.

 

“I feel like I should have seen that coming,” the scientist said, amused. She put the paper back into her clipboard, scribbled something on another paper, then looked back at Duck. “Don’t get any ideas, though. Most people here aren’t so understanding. You’d be better off just doing exactly what you’re told.”

 

Duck nodded. The scientist appeared to be satisfied with that. She went back over to the door, scanned a keycard from her lanyard, and left. Duck stared at the door for a moment. What was he supposed to do now? With a sigh, he folded his legs under his gown and waited.


	10. am i too far gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck is trying to keep it together, but he's alone for real now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has the same warnings as the last, with some extra despair and hopelessness. it's less dark tone-wise, but more emotional.

Silence. Boredom. Anxiety.

 

Duck wasn’t sure how he was so calm and so terrified at the same time. He felt like a bundle of nerves in a sensory deprivation tank. To be fair, most of his anxiety came from wanting to do the right thing. In this case, Duck already knew exactly how and when he fucked up. He was clinging to the dregs of hope in the corners of his mind that he would at least get to see Indrid again. But Duck wasn’t an idealistic person. He knew that wasn’t going to happen, at least not for a while.

 

After some indeterminate amount of time, someone in grey scrubs and a surgical mask opened the door. They wheeled in a cart and then immediately left without saying a word. Duck didn’t move at all, even after the door clicked shut. Was this a test?

 

Hidden speakers somewhere crackled. A robotic voice announced, “Case  _ Duck Newton _ morning  _ one _ unit:  _ nutritional supplement, uniform.  _ Next testing session in:  _ twenty-eight minutes _ .”

 

Duck looked at the cart. It had two levels: the lower part with clothing on it, and the upper part with a tray of sad-looking food on it. He had twenty-eight minutes to get dressed and eat, presumably. With a heavy, soul-pulling sigh, he stood up and walked over to the cart. He lightly touched its surface. 

 

No alarms went off. Looks like he had understood correctly. He figured he would get dressed first, because he absolutely hated the feeling of the sticky plastic gown against his skin. He examined the clothes they had given him: a plain white shirt with half-length sleeves, white cotton pants with an elastic waistband, and white boxer briefs. Well, it was better than nothing. He changed as quickly as he could.

 

Then Duck moved on to the food. The tray was mostly empty, he realized. It was just a sandwich. If this was anything like the movies, it was probably full of mind control drugs or something. Whatever. It was all he had. Duck scarfed it down as fast as he could.

 

After that, he just had to wait. He used the toilet and splashed some water on his face, then sat back down on the bed. This interval of nothing wasn’t too long, luckily. The scientist from before entered the room. She was flanked by two security guards.

 

“Looks like I’ll be conducting your first interview today,” she said, waving her hand.

 

The guards took Duck by the arms and all but dragged him to the door. One of them slipped a blindfold over his eyes. It was probably to keep him from memorizing the floor plan, but realistically it would just make him trip over himself. The guards took him what felt like a short distance to a different room. The lock clicked shut, and someone took the blindfold off. The guards released Duck’s arms and stood on either side of the door.

 

This room was much smaller, and the walls were a lighter grey than the ones in Duck’s room. There was a rectangular metal table in the middle, and two plastic chairs. It was like a slightly less threatening version of the interrogation room Indrid had been in. The scientist sat down in the chair closer to the door. Duck took the seat across from her.

 

“This is just a one-on-one. I mean, obviously there’s surveillance, but that’s standard throughout the facility. Right now, you’re just talking to me,” scientist-who-wasn’t-really-Amber said.

 

“Great, uh, then what should I call you? ‘Cause I know you’re not really Amber,” Duck replied.

 

“Dr. Kenna will work,” the scientist, Dr. Kenna, said.

 

“Alright. Is it like an interview or am I just supposed to say stuff?” Duck asked.

 

“I have a few questions I want answered,” Dr. Kenna said.

 

“Go ahead,” Duck said. 

 

He knew he was pushing it with the informality, but he didn’t care. They were probably going to kill him anyway. He realized, suddenly and clearly, that that was how Indrid was feeling. That nihilism that existed past desperation. It was a horrible, draining mindset, but it was the main thing between these cruel researchers and all of Sylvain.

 

“Well, I want to know what makes you special,” Dr. Kenna started, “As you know, I worked at that dingy little brewery in Kepler for a few months. Some people wanted me to keep an eye on you, just as a precaution, while they investigated Amnesty Lodge. I’d been over-serving you every time, and it was like nothing. Well, except for the last time, the other day.”

 

“I’m not special,” Duck said. He wasn’t even lying. The irony of this whole thing was still stinging like a frying pan to the face.

 

“Listen, Duck, I could sit here and listen to you lie all day. It’s not going to help you or Indrid,” Dr. Kenna said. She said Indrid’s name like it was poison.

 

“I’m not kidding. I might have been, at one point, but it wasn’t related to Sylvain. And if you’ve seen me drunk, you know I’m a shitty liar. There’s nothing magical about me,” Duck said.

 

Dr. Kenna seemed to believe him. She scribbled a few notes on her elusive clipboard. Duck watched her for a second. Then he looked up at the bright white light and the security cameras in each corner of the room. They were pretty thorough here. Maybe even paranoid. Duck was starting to realize that Stern had planned for him to get through security. And, like Stern said, it would be a lot harder for him to get out than it was for him to get in.

 

“Well, if you aren’t special, then why has the Mothman taken such an interest in you?” Dr. Kenna asked.

 

“I dunno, maybe because he likes me? Or because I cook for him, and let him sleep in my bed,” Duck said.

 

“So you do live together,” Dr. Kenna said.

 

“No, not technically. He has his own place still,” Duck said vaguely.

 

“He comes over often, though,” Dr. Kenna said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said.

 

“Why?” Dr. Kenna asked.

 

“Well, I mean, like I said I cook for him, and sometimes if there’s a level in a video game that I can’t beat I’ll ask him to do it. Or if he’s bored, though that usually happens while I’m at work,” Duck said. Dr. Kenna wrote something on her clipboard.

 

“So you just happened to start hanging out?” Dr. Kenna raised an eyebrow.

 

“I mean, I usually try to go around to the campsites and check up on everyone, and that’s how we met. Turns out he was staying in the area for a while, so we started talking,” Duck said. He was lying and he knew it and Dr. Kenna knew it.

 

“Look, Duck, I know that you two are together. You don’t have to lie about it. You obviously can’t lie about it,” Dr. Kenna said.

 

“Do you think I picked him up at a bar or something?” Duck asked.

 

“I want to know how you managed to catch the Mothman’s interest. He’s reclusive and paranoid, so how did you get him to like you?” Dr. Kenna asked.

 

“I think he’s got a right to be paranoid, seeing how y’all are after him,” Duck diverted. Dr. Kenna scowled at him.

 

“Look, Duck, this can be very easy or very hard. Give me a straight answer or I can call the guards and you can go back to your room,” Dr. Kenna said.

 

“Well, I don’t think the answer you’re looking for is very straight,” Duck said, smiling a little. “But I know what you mean. I’m not lying about going to his place, that was how we first met. And we… me and some colleagues were scoping out a tree that needed to be chopped down, and he was there. Turns out he knows a lot about nature. After that, he came by my apartment and we hung out. I… I don’t actually know what made him show up then. But, y’know, we hit it off, and my cat liked him. After that, he, uh, showed up at my work, and we kinda had an emotional moment, and then he told me about the Silver Bridge, and then I didn’t see him for a while, and then he showed up at my apartment and really dug into it, and told me about his time here. He stayed the night, then, and then he left and we didn’t talk too much, and then the heating went out in his place and I brought him back to mine. He stayed that night too, and the night after. That was the night I came home drunk, and I think that’s when I realized that I liked him. The next day was when he told me how he felt, and then that night was when you took him.”

 

“So you’re telling me you’ve only been talking to him for a few weeks?” Dr. Kenna asked.

 

“Yeah, I mean, it sounds kinda rushed when you put it like that,” Duck said.

 

“But you don’t know why he started talking to you?” Dr. Kenna pushed.

 

“I’d like to think it was because I was nice to him,” Duck said honestly, “He didn’t talk to people much before we met, like you said, so I think he just needed someone to care about him.”

 

“And you did?” Dr. Kenna replied.

 

“Well, shit, yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Duck said.

 

“Alright. I think that’s enough for today,” Dr. Kenna said, “You’re being taken directly to the next test.”

 

The two guards that brought Duck in positioned themselves on either side of him. Duck stood up of his own accord, and the guards grabbed his arms again. He was walked out of the room, and then the blindfold was back on. Duck really hated not being able to see where he was going. Nonetheless, he was led somewhere in the facility. Then he heard a door shut, and the blindfold was off.

 

This room was bigger than the last. The walls were white, and there was a chair positioned in front of a screen about the size of a computer monitor. There was also a panel with a keyboard and several buttons, blocked off by a man in a lab coat with not one but two clipboards. He was looking at Duck expectantly.

 

“Uh, hello?” Duck said.

 

“Mr. Newton. Based on some of your recent responses, as well as some other information in your profile, I’ve designed this test to assess your mental abilities,” the man said, “If you cooperate, it might even be fun for you.”

 

“Alright— I don’t— am I supposed to be talking right now or is this a ‘shut up and listen’ type of thing?” Duck replied.

 

“You may speak, but try to keep it relevant, and definitely do not interrupt me. I understand the confusion, though, as I don’t know the rules either. There’s only one other subject that we’re even able to communicate with, and he’s usually silenced,” the scientist said. 

 

Duck had a feeling he knew exactly who that subject was. He felt a stab of anger that reminded him why he was there. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do?”

 

“Well, it’s not too complicated. Sit here,” the scientist gestured to the chair. Duck followed his instruction. “Now, I think you’ll find this simulation to be familiar. It’s similar to a video game. I have this controller here—” he held up a rectangular pad with six buttons and a joystick, “and you will use it to complete the objectives in the simulation. There are twenty objectives, and a tutorial so you can understand the controls.”

 

“This isn’t like Ender’s Game or anything, right?” Duck asked. He didn’t think it was, but at this point he was willing to believe anything.

 

“No, and even if it was we wouldn’t let test subjects control it,” the scientist said.

 

“Alright, just checking,” Duck said. 

 

The scientist handed him the controller and turned around to push some buttons on the panel. Duck looked down at the device in his hands. It was awkward to hold, more like a remote than a game controller. He looked up as the screen illuminated, and then flickered, and then the menu screen popped up. The scientist pressed another button, and the first level loaded.

 

“This is the tutorial. It should give you a good understanding of what the buttons do. Some people thought it was pointless, but the results would be compromised with the added variable of having no idea how to do anything,” the scientist said.

 

Duck nodded. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to that. He tried to figure out what the simulation was. It looked like a two-dimensional space, with a white background and black lines denoting the ground and a few rectangles around the screen. Duck moved the joystick. One of the rectangles, the one that was filled with stripes, moved. Duck wiggled it around some more, watching the rectangle match the action. 

 

After a minute of that, the scientist spoke. “Okay, you’ve got the hang of moving. Try the buttons.”

 

It would be easiest to cooperate. Duck pushed the bottom left button. The rectangle became half as tall. So that was crouching. He tried the bottom right button. The rectangle moved up and fell back down. That was jumping. Was this a platformer game? Duck tried the middle buttons. The left one shot a square to the left, and the right one shot a square to the right. So there would be enemies or something. The top two buttons did nothing.

 

“Alright, let’s get started.” The scientist pushed a button, and the simulation changed.

 

It seemed like a basic side-scrolling platformer-shooter. Duck managed to get through several levels without problem. Once he did mess up, somewhere around the eighth level, his player rectangle disintegrated and the level faded out. When it generated again, it was a different level. Duck glanced at the scientist, but the scientist didn’t comment. He just marked something on his clipboards. Duck did the next few levels too. He died again, and the same change happened. Once he beat the final level, numbers appeared on the screen. 18/20.

 

“That will be all for today,” the scientist said. 

 

He signaled to the guards, and Duck was prepared this time. He braced himself for the blindfold and tried to walk in time with the footsteps he could hear. This walk was longer than the two before. When the blindfold was removed again, he was back where he started. The guards left and shut the door behind them. Duck was by himself again, in his prison of a room.

 

Again, all he could do was wait.

 

~☀~

 

The next several days were less eventful. Every morning, a cart would be delivered with food and clothes, and every evening the cart would have food and a receptacle for the previous day’s clothes. Duck got used to the routine quickly. There wasn’t much else he could do. 

 

He had come to find out that most of being here would just be waiting. Waiting to be experimented on, waiting to catch even the smallest glimpse of Indrid, waiting to be killed. Waiting to find out what he was waiting for. Waiting to find out how long he would have to wait.

 

Occasionally, about four times a day, he would get taken in for testing. He had MRIs, CAT scans, they took blood and tissue and DNA samples. There were weird logic puzzles, and physical challenges that made him nearly pass out. They interrogated him at least once a day, too, usually around midday. It was different questions each time; sometimes about Indrid, sometimes about Sylvain, sometimes about his chosen powers and why he wasn’t showing them. He answered in the most roundabout ways he could. He needed to distract them from getting the truth, but more than anything, he needed to stay outside of his isolated room for as long as possible.

 

Honestly, Duck was starting to see where Indrid was coming from. Duck wasn’t an impatient person. He liked to take a moment and appreciate his landscapes, his life, his luck. This wasn’t that, though. This was intense emptiness and purposeful isolation from anything that could possibly alleviate the crushing nothingness. He knew still that he couldn’t say anything. But the thought that maybe, if he said something, they would let him go, was tempting. He knew that wasn’t how it would go, anyway. And getting Indrid out mattered just as much as getting himself out, if not more. As he kept staring at the same spot on the wall for hours at a time, though, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long without losing his mind.

 

He was just a regular ass dude! What did they want from him? Well, he knew what they wanted. But why did this have to happen to him? Why did anything like this happen to him? From midnight of his eighteenth birthday (or maybe even before) up to now, the universe had singled him out as a vessel of misfortune. Duck remembered Indrid’s words, the night he had come into the ranger station. “The universe loves to pick a few people at random to just completely fuck up, let them loose on their own, and then push them together whenever a crisis needs fixing.” Well, this was more of a personal crisis, but Duck still felt like it was relevant. Besides, imagining Indrid’s voice was one of the only comforts he had.

 

More than anything, more than boredom or anger or confusion, Duck was worried. He was worried for himself. He was worried for Indrid. He was worried for Ned and Barclay, and about whether they made it back to Aubrey. He was worried for Aubrey herself, out in the woods by herself. He was worried that all of them had given up on him. He was worried about Winnie, all alone in his apartment. He was worried about his job, and how mysteriously disappearing for a while would affect it if he ever got back. He was worried that he might be stuck here for so long that he gave up on getting out.

 

And then, one day (the eleventh day, if the robotic announcer was to be believed) Duck got the best news he had ever heard in his entire 43-odd years of life.

 

“Both you and the Mothman have been on your best behavior these past few days,” Dr. Kenna started. Her voice was patronizing and cold at the same time. “We thought it might be nice for you to see each other.”

 

Duck was frozen in place. Was this a trick? Was he hallucinating? 

 

Dr. Kenna noticed his hesitation. “I know, it may seem like a strange thing to do. But, since you haven’t proved to be a problem, I see no reason why we should keep you separate from him.”

 

“...Alright,” Duck said.

 

He was ready as the guards took him, and shut his eyes as the blindfold was placed over them. The walking speed he needed to keep up with the guards was muscle memory at this point. He was almost excited. This walk was the longest one Duck had been on yet. He knew that the section with the Sylphs was far away from his own containment unit, but he had been unconscious the last time he made the journey. When they finally let go of Duck and took the blindfold off, Duck almost started crying.

 

Indrid was standing on the other side of a metal table, a guard on either side. He had his glasses on, and his expression would be unreadable if Duck didn’t know him so well. He could tell from the slight exaggeration of Indrid’s natural grin that he was trying to hold in whatever he wanted to say. Duck wanted to run up to him, but he knew that wouldn’t be allowed. He settled for sitting down at the table. Indrid sat down across from him.

 

“Hi,” Indrid smiled.

 

Duck burst into tears. Indrid was here, he was alive, he was talking to Duck, he was within Duck’s reach! After days of solitude and self-imposed nihilism, it was overwhelming. Indrid was the whole reason Duck was here, and he was right there. All the heartbreak that Duck had been bottling up was spilling out, and he probably looked like an idiot.

 

“Sorry,” Duck said, “I just— I never thought I’d see you again.”

 

“It’s okay, Duck,” Indrid said. Duck made a sound when Indrid said his name.

 

“Are you okay? I mean, besides…” Duck gestured the the room.

 

“I… well, no, but I feel a lot better seeing you,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck sniffled, “Have they been testing on you at all? Or just asking you stuff?” Duck asked.

 

“Mostly interviews,” Indrid said, with air quotes around “interviews.”

 

“They’re listening to us right now, I think,” Duck said.

 

“I think they think we’re going to tell each other secrets like there aren’t four guards and several microphones in the room,” Indrid said.

 

“They think I’m some kinda magic too,” Duck said.

 

“I think you’re magical,” Indrid said, just a little too sweetly. Duck glanced at the guards. They were emotionless, as usual, but he could see they were uncomfortable.

 

“You know that’s not what I mean, babe,” Duck smiled. If being a sappy piece of shit was what got them out of there, he could do it a hundred times over.

 

“Do you think we’re allowed to hold hands?” Indrid asked.

 

“Probably not,” Duck said, “You might be transmitting psychic messages through your hands.”

 

Indrid laughed. “That would be incredibly cool if I could do that. I would never have to say anything out loud to you again.”

 

“You wouldn’t have to, but I like hearing your voice,” Duck said.

 

“I know,” Indrid said. Duck got the feeling that if Indrid could, he would be winking right now.

 

“Do you think Winnie is still getting fed?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, if your neighbors know you’re gone,” Indrid said. Duck knew that was his way of confirming. At least that was one of his worries absolved.

 

“Your trailer is at the lodge, at least when I left,” Duck said.

 

“Thank you,” Indrid said.

 

“I saw the drawings,” Duck said.

 

“You did,” Indrid replied.

 

“I don’t know if you— I mean, I don’t think you planned it, but that’s when I really lost it. I mean, Mama and Barclay could tell you, I was a wreck. Almost as bad as I am now,” Duck said, laughing bitterly.

 

“I’m sorry I got you into all of this,” Indrid said sincerely.

 

“How many times do I gotta tell you it’s not your fault?” Duck said, “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Happens to the best of us. You are the ‘best of us.’”

 

“I knew.”

 

“You knew?” Duck replied. He was worried that Indrid had just given away his ability. Hopefully, though, he had something planned.

 

“Stern kept coming after us, and I knew he was going to make a move soon. So I isolated myself, so you wouldn’t get dragged into it. I knew— I know you well enough to understand what you would do for me. And, for better or for worse, that includes dying,” Indrid said. Duck read between the lines. He would have died trying to protect Indrid. “That terrified me, and I couldn’t let you get hurt. But my being here was inevitable.”

 

“Well, I managed to end up here too,” Duck shrugged.

 

“You did,” Indrid said. He didn’t sound angry. He just sounded like someone who was tired of being right.

 

“I’m scared, Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“I’m scared too,” Indrid admitted. The genuine, exhausted sigh that accompanied his words was like a punch in the chest.

 

“I have no idea what to do,” Duck said.

 

“Just… keep cooperating. Maybe once they understand you’re not of any value to them they’ll wipe your memory and let you go. Making you disappear forever is more suspicious than you disappearing for a few weeks, especially in a small town like Kepler,” Indrid said.

 

“I mean, some of the experiments aren’t so bad. I got to play a video game on my first day,” Duck said.

 

“Lucky,” Indrid grinned. 

 

He looked bittersweet. Like he wanted to hide how miserable he was with how happy he was for Duck. Honestly, Duck knew he was getting off easy. He wasn’t a Sylph, or even a particularly interesting human. Just a regular guy who knew way more than he should, and maybe he had been a hero for a couple months. On the other hand, Indrid was possibly the most obviously eccentric person Duck had ever met. Even the people in Sylvain were more average than him.

 

“Hey Indrid?” 

 

“Hm?”

 

“You know I love you, right?”

 

“That’s the only thing getting me through the day, at this point,” Indrid said honestly, “And I love you too, so much, Duck, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 

“God, I really wish I could hug you right now,” Duck said.

 

“Yeah,” Indrid said.

 

“They’re not gonna let us do this again,” Duck said.

 

“Probably not,” Indrid agreed.

 

“There’s not— I don’t know what I could say to you that would make this worthwhile for them,” Duck said, “I don’t know anything.”

 

“Well, I mean, I could tell you about the abominations,” Indrid said. 

 

Duck raised his eyebrows. “The abominations?”

 

“Yes. They originate from outside the walls of civilization in Sylvain. Really, most of them used to be citizens. But, if they were violent, or unproductive, or just considered too terrifying to look at, they would get cast out. Then the Quell, the destructive force that wants to eradicate what’s left of Sylvain, gets in their heads. I don’t know if it’s like a parasite, or a hivemind, or just a really convincing and vengeful ex-citizen,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh,” Duck said.

 

“When I lived there, a long time ago, that was our main conflict. It was us against the abominations. We built more fortifications, let more soldiers die, and we were operating on the bare minimum. Sylvain’s energy was waning even then,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s terrible,” Duck said.

 

“Well, we made it work. I told you before that I haven’t been back since I got out of this place the first time. I… it was my fault that we lost what was left,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s not—” Duck cut himself off. He needed to stay on the scientists’ good side.

 

“I know,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid…” Duck said. He didn’t have an end. He just needed Indrid to know he was there.

 

“I might have more to say about Sylvain, but only if I get to see you again,” Indrid said, though it was more like he announced it to the room.

 

“That sounds good,” Duck said.

 

Behind him, he heard the guards start to come forward. He braced himself for the inevitable removal, the return to loneliness. Across from him, Indrid was getting pulled away too. Indrid was taken first; he walked with the guards to the door as Duck was held firmly in place. After a few seconds, Duck’s guards put his blindfold on and took him out to the hallway.

 

And then the second miracle of the day happened.

 

The fire alarm went off.


	11. like a phoenix from ashes, so is a moth from the lightbulb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle, but it's just the beginning. Indrid is a hero too, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congration! we're one chapter away from the end. do you feel it yet?  
> !!!!lots of trigger warnings for this chapter! including: gore, guns, more gore, pre-trauma, major character injury, anxiety attacks, death, and hospitals.!!!!!  
> anyways this is officially the "off the rails" moment for this story, as the events in this chapter make it no longer congruent with canon. almost, folks, we almost did it, but as a vengeful motherfucker i gotta do what i gotta do.

Confusion. Panic. Not moving an inch.

 

Several thoughts ran through Duck’s mind as the alarm blared. Bright lights flashed up and down the hallway. It wasn’t a drill, right? This didn’t seem like the kind of place that ran fire drills. But then what was it? Duck fleetingly hoped that it was Aubrey, but he knew there was no point in sustaining it. It had been at least twelve days since he had first entered the facility. If they knew what was best for them, they would have gone back to Kepler after three.

 

All of that was interrupted by the sudden force that knocked him off his feet. Except that he didn’t hit the floor. No, he was being… carried?  But he was still sideways and there were no footsteps. Duck realized that his eyes were shut and opened them. He saw a familiar fuzzy shoulder inches from his face. He tangled his fingers in Indrid’s soft feathers.

 

“What about the others?” Duck managed to say.

 

“That’s where we’re going,” Indrid said.

 

Duck couldn’t see where they were going, so he didn’t know if that was true. All he could see was Indrid and the too-bright lights on the ceiling rushing past. Still, while he wasn’t sure what Indrid’s plan was, Duck trusted him. Hopefully he at least knew about Duck’s promise to Aubrey. For now, though, Duck just grabbed onto Indrid and tried to ignore the angry yelling that had started up around them.

 

“What’s going on?” Duck asked.

 

“The Pine Guard,” Indrid said simply.

 

“Plan A for arson, huh?” Duck said.

 

“This is their third attempt, actually,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh.” 

 

It wasn’t really shocking. Honestly, Duck was more surprised that he had ever thought they would stop trying. Aubrey and Ned were nothing if not ridiculously stubborn. The more dangerous the idea, the more they wanted to do it. Duck liked to think that he was the reasonable one in the group, but he’s the one who got himself trapped there in the first place. Still, he was glad that they hadn’t stopped fighting for him.

 

“Okay, when I let go of you, you have to start running. You’ll be at the end of the hallway where I was kept. The locks will shut down if I get close to them, so you’ll be on your own. I’ll give you the keycard and wait outside,” Indrid said.

 

“How are we gonna get through the security scans?” Duck asked.

 

“I have magic powers,” Indrid said, and while expression was different in his moth form, Duck knew was smirking.

 

Duck felt one of Indrid’s arms move from his back, saw a flash of red light reflected by Indrid’s inky feathers, and heard an explosion. More alarms went off. The sounds of running and gunshots echoed down the hallway. Indrid pulled up and dropped Duck in the sparking remains of the door. He pushed the metal keycard into Duck’s hand and took off again.

 

In Duck’s one singular moment of hesitation, a bullet nearly hit him in the shoulder. He managed to pull back, turning and running to the back of the cell block. He remembered evacuation protocol: the people farthest from the door first. Duck wasn’t exactly sure how many people were still in there, but he would try his best to get them all out. 

 

Duck ran past the heavily tinted window that had once held Indrid. As he looked around, breathing heavily, he realized that the rest of the rooms were empty. He turned back and started unlocking cells left and right. The doors swung open, but Duck didn’t stop to check. He could hear the fighting outside getting closer, and angrier. By the time Duck made it up to the first occupied cell, with the supposedly dead body in it, he had amassed a following of about six people. He swiped the card through the reader on that final door, and to his surprise, the boneless-looking individual was waiting on the other side. Duck nodded and sprinted the final distance to the main hallway.

 

“I got ‘em,” Duck said, looking around. Several security guards laid unconscious or dead on the floor.

 

“Up here,” Indrid said. Duck looked up. Indrid was perched, upside down, on the ceiling (except for his lower left hand that was holding his glasses). He dropped down in front of Duck. “Let’s go.”

 

From there, Indrid led the charge towards what Duck assumed was the exit. He was the fastest, much faster than Duck, but some of the Sylphs were keeping up with him easily. The fluid figure that had escaped last was simply moving itself across the floor somehow. The bird-person, though silent now, was flying right behind Indrid. Two stout, identical people with three sets of arms were right under them. In fact, Duck was near the back of the group, with the old woman made of ground and a literally wispy shape that looked like it was fading as they moved.

 

As all of them rounded the corner, they were met with a wave of actual soldiers. The bird person shrieked something that was physically incomprehensible, but Duck could understand they said to get down. Duck did so, barely dodging a stream of bullets from a machine gun. Suddenly, he felt someone leaning over him. He glanced up: the ground woman was shielding him from the gunfire. She seemed unaffected by it, aside from the clouds of shimmering orange dust bursting up from the impact. Duck nodded at her thankfully and looked around for Indrid. He spotted him standing at the front of their group, between the violently wailing bird and one of the six-armed people.

 

Indrid, badass that he was, fired a beam of red light through the middle of the incoming attackers. Duck was pretty sure most of them had been instantly vaporized, because the noticeably few remaining soldiers scattered. There was a clear path to the main hallway.

Across the chaos, Duck could see a familiar face, surrounded by a shield of shimmering heat.

 

“Duck!” Aubrey exclaimed.

 

“Aubrey!” Duck yelled back. 

 

She sprinted towards him. The formless person blocked her path, and while it had no distinct face it was clearly scowling. 

 

“It’s okay, she’s here to help us,” Duck assured them. 

 

The figure moved aside hesitantly, and then Duck was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“I was so scared,” Aubrey said tearfully.

 

“So was I,” Duck said, “Where are the others?”

 

“Holding the elevator,” Aubrey said.

 

“Wha— okay. Take— there’s… six Sylphs, get them out. Me and Indrid will catch up,” Duck said, stepping back.

 

“Six,” Aubrey repeated. 

 

She looked past Duck. Duck looked too, worried that someone was missing. But no, there was still Voice Bird and Six-Arm Twins and Ground Woman and Fluid Person and even the wispy creature (that seemed a little brighter now than before). Duck turned back to Aubrey. She had a determined look on her face.

 

“Everyone follow me!” Aubrey announced. The various Sylphs shuffled towards her, and she cast out another heat shield around the whole group. 

 

“Looks like you got it figured out,” Duck said

 

“Yep,” Aubrey nodded. She turned away and then stopped and turned back. “Oh wait, I almost forgot.”

 

She pulled Beacon out of her jacket. It uncurled immediately, announcing, “ **FINALLY! A PROPER BATTLE!** ”

 

“Thanks,” Duck said, taking Beacon before it could yell anymore.

 

“We’re here for you guys, Duck, you better make it in one piece,” Aubrey insisted.

 

“Yeah, we will,” Duck promised.

 

“See you in a minute,” Aubrey said. And even though she looked scared and tired, Duck could see a spark of giddy thrill from the adrenaline. “Let’s roll!”

 

Aubrey led the Sylphs into the main hallway, sprinting away just a little faster than humanly possible. Duck watched her go. For a moment, the only thing he could hear was his own labored breathing and the beating of Indrid’s wings somewhere behind him.

 

“ **LET US DESTROY OUR ENEMIES!”**

 

Naturally, the battle cry attracted more soldiers from around the corner. Duck glanced back momentarily; Indrid was holding his own against another wave of security guards. Duck was on his own for the moment. In a moment of panic, he brought Beacon’s hilt down on the head of the nearest guard. The guard collapsed to the floor, eliciting a victorious laugh from Beacon. 

 

That was all the confidence Duck needed. He launched into a frenzy of slashing and striking.  He wondered momentarily if he should be killing these people, these humans with lives who were just doing their jobs. Then he remembered the eleven days alone, the being tested on until he collapsed, the dragging around a facility with a blindfold on. Duck would most definitely have nightmares later, but he was too pissed off and scared to care right now. He let his emotions and instinct take over, dodging all of the bullets coming at him.

 

Well, almost all of the bullets.

 

Duck didn’t notice until the last of the guards fell to the ground. He was covered in blood, numb from the adrenaline, and extremely nauseous. He fucking hated this. This was why he had never taken up his destiny. Because this was the kind of shit he thought he would get into. Duck shut his eyes so he didn’t have to see any of the mangled bodies on the floor.

 

“ **DUCK NEWTON, YOU HAVE FOUGHT BRAVELY TODAY, BUT IT SEEMS YOU HAVE TAKEN SOME DAMAGE** ,” Beacon said.

 

Duck looked down at his left arm. Sure enough, some of his own blood was gushing from a carved-out hole just above his inner elbow. As he noticed it, his brain recognized the specific and excruciating pain he was in. Fuck. Okay, first aid, there had to be something he could do. The first step was to stop panicking. It wasn’t the worst possible wound, just a deep graze. Nope, Duck could see a glint of metal in it. Shit. A tourniquet? Did he need a tourniquet? 

 

The edges of his vision were starting to go dark, but Duck fought through it. He promised Aubrey, he promised Indrid, and he promised himself that he was going to make it out of this place. Duck tried to walk forward, out of the hallway, but it wasn’t going to happen. His legs were shaky, and he tripped over an unidentifiable body part. Then Duck was on the floor. He cried out, releasing Beacon to clamp his hand over his injured arm. 

 

A voice in his head that sounded like Stern told him this wouldn’t have happened if he had just cooperated. Duck looked up at the glaring white lights in the ceiling and saw that Stern was actually there, standing over him with a self-satisfied smirk. Duck hated this, hated how for the second time in two weeks, Stern was watching him struggle and enjoying it. In a final fit of anger, Duck grabbed Beacon one more time and launched it at Stern. 

 

Stern looked amused, but before he could reach out and catch the magic sword, an orb of red light hit him square in the chest. The sinister laughter faded from his eyes as he collapsed onto the bloody linoleum, lifeless. A spindly chitin hand caught Beacon, whose hilt was inches from Duck’s face.

 

“Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“Hey,” Indrid said, “I’m going to lift you, try not to move.” 

 

He picked up Duck again, this time with such gentleness that Duck wanted to cry. Well, he was definitely already crying, but for different reasons. Indrid made soft chittering noises as he covered Duck’s gunshot wound with his hand. Duck hid his face in Indrid’s chest to hide the pitiful noise that escaped him. He didn’t want to see anymore. He didn’t want to be in this place anymore.

 

“I’m about to go really fast, and I need you to stay with me,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck said, fading out.

 

“Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“Indrid,” Duck replied. He could feel Indrid staring at him. “I’m here.”

 

“Just a few more minutes,” Indrid said, although he sounded like he was talking to himself.

 

Suddenly, Indrid took off. Duck barely registered the difference at first but then then they were shooting through the halls. Duck held on with his one good arm as he tried his best to stay conscious. They turned one corner, and then another, and then Duck heard someone else’s voice.

 

“Is he okay?” Ned asked.

 

“He’s in shock, he took a bullet to the arm,” Indrid said, “And I would imagine the sight of the people he killed will haunt him for some time.”

 

“Fuck,” Duck said softly. His head was pounding. He was fighting so hard to keep his eyes open, even as starbursts were clouding his vision. Why was he so fucking weak? Why did he have to get hit like an idiot? Why was he reacting so badly to all of this? Wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of tough destiny-achieving guy?

 

“Well, the elevator should be back in a second, and we’ll go right to the hospital,” Ned said. He sounded scared, just like Aubrey had before. 

 

Eleven days. At least. It didn’t sound so long now, but Duck had done the math. It was over fifteen thousand minutes. Over 950,000 seconds. All of that time, effectively alone in a place that didn’t believe he was human.

 

“Indrid?” Duck said.

 

“Hm?” It felt like Indrid was talking in Duck’s mind. 

 

Duck realized his eyes were shut and pried them open. “How long was it actually?”

 

“That you were here? Thirteen days,” Indrid said.

 

Thirteen days. Almost two whole weeks. That mean Duck had been knocked out for at least 36 hours from the tranquilizer. 

 

“I’ll explain when you can understand me,” Indrid said.

 

The elevator finally dinged. Duck expected Indrid to move, but he didn’t. Instead, the distinct stomp of Aubrey’s boots echoed in the empty lobby.

 

“I told him to get here in one piece,” Aubrey said weakly.

 

“It’s just a bullet in his arm, but the trauma is setting in,” Indrid said.

 

“Is there anyone left?” Aubrey asked.

 

“No,” Indrid said. Duck could tell he was lying.

 

“Great. I’m burning this place down,” Aubrey said.

 

“Aubrey—” Ned started.

 

“She should,” Indrid interrupted, “One big fireball into the offices should do it. We’ll hold the elevator.”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to take the stairs in case of a fire?” Ned pointed out

.

“We’re working with what we have,” Barclay said, with a voice like icy stone. Duck hadn’t realized he was even there.

 

“I’ll be right back,” Aubrey said. 

 

Duck heard her walking away. Indrid finally moved into the elevator. Duck adjusted his grip. His hands were sticky with congealed blood and it made him feel sick. Indrid chittered softly again. His hand was still on Duck’s damaged arm. Two sets of footsteps followed them into the elevator. 

 

A telltale  _ fwoosh _ of a fire spell sounded in the distance. Duck heard Aubrey running, heard her crash into the back grate as the doors slid shut. The elevator creaked upwards, away from the self-contained blaze, away from the worst place Duck could ever imagine. As they got closer to the surface, Duck looked up from Indrid’s chest and saw that the desk that had once covered the elevator opening was gone, and smoke drifted down in to the shaft. He shut his eyes instinctively, and passed out before he could remember to be awake.

 

~☀~

 

For the first time in two weeks, Duck didn’t wake up alone.

 

Sure, he had no idea where he was or what was going on. He wasn’t in the facility anymore, though, so he would take anything. Duck recalibrated his nerves. There was a dull pain in his left arm— right, he got shot. But his right hand was loosely holding someone else’s hand. A very familiar someone. Duck opened his eyes.

 

“Indrid,” Duck said.

 

“Duck,” Indrid smiled.

 

“We made it,” Duck said.

 

“We did,” Indrid nodded, “Aubrey is getting coffee, Barclay is on the phone with Mama, and Ned is trying to get you released early.”

 

“Is that safe? Like, is it okay for me to leave early?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes, assuming you don’t rip out your stitches and take your antibiotics,” Indrid replied.

 

“Okay.”

 

Duck stared at Indrid for a moment. They were together, they were out of that hellhole, they were relatively safe. And they were going home, as soon as Ned convinced the doctors to let him go. At this point, all Duck wanted was to sleep in his own bed, hopefully with Indrid next to him. Indrid smiled at him, like he could read Duck’s mind. Duck raised an eyebrow knowingly. Indrid’s smile only widened.

 

“Oh, I just remembered, we brought your clothes,” Indrid said. He picked up Duck’s bag from the floor and pulled out the secondary outfit Duck had packed.

 

“Thank god,” Duck said, “I haven’t— it’s, shit, it’s been almost two weeks since I’ve worn real fuckin’ clothes.”

 

He didn’t know why the thought made him so happy. Clearly he would have a lot of shit to work through. Duck took the clothes from Indrid and, with some awkwardness, managed to change into them from the hospital gown. His arm hurt, more of a widespread ache than the sharp piercing it had been before. Indrid was already helping as Duck winced, gently pulling the shirt over the bandaging.

 

Duck looked up at Indrid. He couldn’t see his eyes, not that they would say much anyway, but he could tell Indrid was concerned. Not worried, they didn’t have to be worried anymore. Just caring about Duck’s wellbeing, hoping he would be okay. It was a vulnerable moment, and Duck opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would explain how he was feeling.

 

Suddenly, the door swung open. Duck looked up. Aubrey was standing in the doorway, carrying a steaming travel cup of coffee. When she saw Duck was awake, she set the cup down on the table and rushed over to him.

 

“You’re okay,” Aubrey said.

 

“Last time I checked,” Duck said.

 

“I…” Aubrey looked over at Indrid. 

 

Indrid seemed to take the hint. He squeezed Duck’s hand and let go, leaving the room. Duck watched the door shut behind him, waiting for Aubrey to speak.

 

Aubrey took a deep breath. “Look, Duck, I’m really sorry. I mean, I know it’s not my fault, but I feel like if I’d been there I could’ve done something.”

 

“No, listen, don’t beat yourself up about it. They wanted me not just because of Indrid, but because of my Chosen stuff too. If you’d come there you would’ve had it way worse and we never would’ve gotten out of there,” Duck said.

 

“Was it really bad?” Aubrey asked, perching precariously on the thin plastic armrest of the hospital chair.

 

“It wasn’t… like it wasn’t physically damaging, but that was like, worse, if that makes sense. Like they made me do all these weird tests but most of it was just sitting alone in an empty room,” Duck said. 

 

Aubrey looked angry and concerned at the same time. “That’s horrible.”

 

“It wasn’t great,” Duck agreed.

 

“Do you— I mean, will you be okay?” Aubrey asked. She was fiddling with the peeling plastic on the seat cover.

 

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, it’s not like there’s a therapist I can go to about it,” Duck said.

 

“I know,” Aubrey sighed, “Do you wanna… talk about it?”

 

“Not right now,” Duck said.

 

“I get that,” Aubrey said.

 

They were both silent for a minute.

 

“Y’know, I didn’t believe it at first, that you were there. I thought it was just something going wrong in the labs or something. But then Indrid told me it was you guys, and I felt bad for ever thinking you would give up,” Duck said.

 

“You were gone for thirteen days, Duck,” Aubrey said, “When Ned and Barclay said Stern wasn’t gonna give you back I was scared. We were all scared. But I don’t think the thought of giving up ever crossed our minds.”

 

Duck took a deep breath. “Right. It’s just, like, they kept me isolated on purpose for the whole time, basically. Just scientists and angry law enforcement who saw me as a specimen and not a person. I know it was on purpose, to get me to break, but still, it fucked me up a little bit. I don’t know how Indrid managed as long as he did.”

 

“What?” Aubrey frowned.

 

“Nevermind,” Duck said. It wasn’t his place to say.

 

“Wait, I just realized. You were there for thirteen days, and Indrid was there a day before you. Fourteen days, two weeks. Your dream,” Aubrey said, gesturing vaguely in the air as she talked.

 

“Shit,” Duck said, “But—”

 

“It’s complicated,” Indrid cut in. Duck looked up; Indrid was standing inside the door, even though it hadn’t opened or shut at all.

 

“It was you, though, right?” Duck asked. He was used to Indrid’s random interruptions, but Aubrey looked confused.

 

Indrid sat back down in his chair, though he didn’t ask Aubrey to move off the armrest. “Yes, it was me. It’s… the third-eye ability that Aubrey uses, is something I’m capable of as well. And really, it’s more of a window than a lens. If you’ve had as much time to practice as I have, then you can turn it into a door,” Indrid explained, “There’s a dimension of magic that overlaps with our physical existence, and if you know what you’re doing, you can project yourself into it outside of your physical body. Your visions, Duck, take place in that dimension, so I figured I could use it get the message across. Two weeks, and then things would start getting violent. Once they figured out I had nothing left for them, things would have… not ended well.”

 

“Okay this all sucks and everything but that’s really cool,” Aubrey said.

 

“Maybe I can teach you if Ned ever comes back with the release forms,” Indrid said pointedly.

 

As he said that, the door swung open again. It wasn’t Ned, though, it was Barclay, and he looked tired. Duck could see bandages peeking out from under his rolled up sleeves.

 

“Mama says she’s sending Dani here to help bring the Sylphs back to the lodge,” Barclay said.

 

“And?” Indrid prompted.

 

“And that we should get back there as soon as we can, we don’t know if Stern will be looking for us,” Barclay finished.

 

Duck frowned. “I…” 

 

He looked at Indrid. Everything post-Beacon was kind of a blur, so Duck didn’t know if his memory could be trusted. Indrid stared at him for a moment before understanding what he was implying.

 

“Stern is dead,” Indrid said.

 

“He is?” Barclay raised his eyebrows.

 

“Yes, I… he was going to kill Duck, so I killed him first,” Indrid said.

 

“You did,” Barclay said.

 

“I mean, I didn’t exactly think you would miss him,” Indrid said, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. “What was it you said? ‘If one person dying saves a whole planet, you have to take that deal?’ Seems like a fair trade to me.”

 

“Look, Indrid, I should never have said that, it wasn’t fair to you—”

 

“But it was true. If I had died back when they first captured me, then Sylvain would likely still be able to fight the Quell,” Indrid said. Duck clenched his teeth. This was Indrid’s battle to fight.

 

“That doesn’t mean you deserve to die,” Barclay said, his voice quiet and flat. He clearly didn’t want it to become a fight. “I’m sorry for ever implying that you did. I was upset, and I never even stopped to think how you must have been feeling.”

 

“I don’t hold it against you,” Indrid lied. Duck knew he was lying the second he opened his mouth.

 

“Bullshit. I mean, you have every right to, I was an asshole and I hurt you when you needed it least,” Barclay said.

 

“You had no way of knowing what had happened to me,” Indrid said, “For all you knew, I could have just been the same asshole as before and just sold Sylvain out in exchange for protection.”

 

“I was tailing you for three weeks, I knew that wasn’t what happened,” Barclay said.

 

“I knew you were tailing me. I thought maybe you were going to kill me. I hoped you were going to kill me. I had made my peace with the idea that there was nothing left for me in this hell world, especially since I couldn’t go back to Sylvain. In the long run, I’d say you did the right thing in not killing me, but I was upset about it at the time,” Indrid said, “Like I said, I don’t hold it against you.”

 

The words hit Duck right in the gut, despite the fact that Indrid wasn’t even talking to him. It was getting harder to hold back all the things he wanted to say by the second. Barclay looked extremely guilty. Both him and Indrid seemed to have forgotten that Duck and Aubrey were in the room. Duck wanted to say something, anything, that would stop this non-argument, but he knew it wasn’t his place to interrupt.

 

“I’m sorry,” Barclay said finally, “And you shouldn’t have to be.”

 

“I’m sorry anyway, especially that you all got hurt trying to rescue me,” Indrid said.

 

“Are we good?” Barclay asked.

 

“Sure,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s not really—”

 

The door opened again, and this time it was Ned. He looked physically barricaded by the uncomfortable energy in the room, but he pushed through anyway.

 

“I got the release forms, once they’re signed, we’re good to go,” Ned said.

 

“So wait, Barclay said Dani was coming to bring the Sylphs back to Amnesty. Is she already on the way, or like, do we have to leave before she gets here, or…” Aubrey asked.

 

“Well, she’s driving my trailer, so it will take longer than the truck, but if she maintains speed she should be here in about two hours,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, Indrid how do you drive that thing? It’s terrifying,” Duck said.

 

“Well, usually I’m not driving it, that’s kind of the point,” Indrid said with a smile that no one else would be able to notice. “But yes, it’s old and falling apart, so I should see about an upgrade.”

 

“Or you could just live with me,” Duck said.

 

“…Yes, I suppose that is an option,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m just— you don’t have to, I mean, I’m just saying that I have the room, and also I’m terrified every time you’re not in my direct line of view,” Duck said.

 

“Hm, it’s usually the opposite for most people,” Indrid grinned.

 

Aubrey cleared her throat. Duck shut his mouth and looked down at his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned making a smug expression. Indrid seemed completely unfazed.

 

“So here, just sign these, and then we can leave,” Ned said. 

 

Duck took the papers and the pen Ned procured. He didn’t even bother reading it. He’d already signed his life away once, though hopefully that document had been destroyed already by Aubrey’s justice-based arson. Once Duck was done, he handed the papers back to Ned. Indrid stood up and started disconnecting him from the various medical monitors. The IV came out first, and Duck tried his best not to think about it as Indrid did something to make it not bleed everywhere. Then the heart rate monitor, and it started beeping once it reported no pulse but Indrid didn’t seem concerned. He helped Duck out of the elevated hospital bed.

 

It felt weird to stand on his own, and then it felt weird to feel weird about that. Sure, basically every time he stood up over the past two weeks he was accompanied by armed guards, but it was only two weeks. Less than that, technically. Eleven days. Indrid offered his arm, and Duck didn’t really need support but he held on anyway. At least then he could be sure Indrid was there.

 

They walked out of the room, followed by Barclay and Aubrey. Apparently Ned had already left without being noticed. Indrid led Duck into the elevator, down through the lobby, and out to the truck. The sunlight was more than Duck could withstand. With some help, he climbed into the backseat, and was joined by Aubrey on his right and Indrid on his left. Barclay waited outside, until both he and Ned got into their respective front seats.

 

It wasn’t the most comfortable driving situation, but it was driving. Driving away from the facility that was probably all ash and concrete and broken glass by now. Driving home. Going home. With Indrid, nonetheless. And some other people who would hopefully be okay too. Obviously, there were some stops they had to make first, but none of them involved threatening, experimenting on, or otherwise hurting anyone, so Duck didn’t mind. In fact, he was weirdly happy. He had successfully rescued several people, with only a little bit of major emotional and physical trauma. Everything was going to be okay.


	12. and when the seasons change, will you stand by me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck and Indrid come home. There's a lot of questions to be answered, but there's plenty of answers to go around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we did it!! yeehaw! also check that word count: 69420 babey! thank yall so much for sticking with me, im super proud of this, and i look forward to yall's feedback!

Engine humming. Indrid’s hand. Unfamiliar trees.

 

Duck was exhausted, he realized. He could barely keep his eyes open. Luckily, he wasn’t the one driving, so he let his head rest on Indrid’s shoulder. Indrid brushed his thumb across Duck’s knuckles. His hands weren’t cold anymore, since because Duck had been clinging to them for a while.

 

Indrid kissed the top of Duck’s head before saying, “We need to go back and wait with everyone there.”

 

“How long until Dani gets here?” Aubrey asked. Ned changed lanes to get off at the next exit.

 

“About forty-five minutes,” Indrid said, “And the government backup they called is searching the whole area, but we have fifty minutes until they get to where you were.”

 

“That’s not too bad,” Aubrey said optimistically. She had been third- and fifth-wheeling for the past two weeks, so Duck understood why she wanted to see Dani.

 

“Well, it’s gonna be around twenty minutes until we get back there, so hopefully the agents aren’t cutting any corners,” Ned said.

 

The silence that fell over the car was tense. It was already strained between Indrid and Barclay, but the suspense and terrible traffic only made things feel worse. Duck knew there would be a lot more conflict before he could go home. Maybe he could just stay in the car. Indrid squeezed Duck’s hand comfortingly. Duck sighed.

 

They reached the makeshift campground in twenty-six minutes. Duck saw all the Sylphs from the laboratories waiting there. The ones with expressions looked scared, and the ones that didn’t still seemed anxious. Voice Bird, as Duck had taken to calling them, was up in a tree, and the wispy creature was flickering rapidly.

 

Ned parked the truck parallel to the standing group. Aubrey and Barclay hopped out immediately, walking up to them. Duck watched the ground woman straighten up and start talking, though he couldn’t make out the words. She appeared to be the unofficial leader, and probably one of the only ones that could speak in a human language. Ned got out once the tuck was securely braked and joined the conversation.

 

Duck stayed in the car with Indrid for a minute. Indrid was being quiet, although that’s how he usually was when he didn’t have anything to say. He was probably saving it all for when they were alone. That was for the best, but it made it hard to say anything. At some point, Duck did want to get out of the car and thank everyone for helping with the big escape. However, he also wanted to rest for an indefinitely long period of time.

 

With a sigh, Duck shifted out of Indrid’s grip. He climbed out through the door Aubrey had left open. Indrid met him there and they went up to everyone.

 

“—so we can get you guys to a safe place, and then see if y’all can go back to Sylvain,” Aubrey finished.

 

“You won’t be going with us?” the ground woman asked.

 

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but we’ll all be around the— it’s called Amnesty Lodge, I live there so I’ll be around, and Barclay too,” Aubrey explained, “And Ned’s there half the time, and I don’t know about Duck, he’s kind of our wild card.”

 

“I am the least ‘wild card’ of anyone you know,” Duck cut in.

 

“You’re the one who led this whole expedition,” Aubrey pointed out.

 

“Yeah, for very selfish and obvious reasons. It was a very predictable thing for me to do,” Duck said.

 

“Whatever. Point is, we’ll see you all again,” Aubrey said, turning back to the ground woman.

 

“I think your friends are almost here,” the ground woman said.

 

“Friends, plural?” Ned frowned, “Barclay, you said—”

 

Duck actually looked toward the engine he could hear approaching. In the driver’s seat was Dani, as expected. But as they pulled to a stop, Duck recognized the  passenger.

 

“Juno?”

 

The door of the Winnebago swung open, and sure enough, Juno was there. She barreled towards Duck with the force of a best friend who had been out of the loop for too long. Duck braced himself, and he felt Indrid move away slightly. Juno enveloped Duck in a bone-crushing hug.

 

Once she let go, still holding Duck’s shoulders, she said, “Holy shit, Duck, you’ve been gone for what, two weeks? No one knew where you went, and I saw his trailer was still gone—” she gestured to Indrid “—so I wondered if you and him fuckin’ eloped or something, but jesus, it’s a lot worse than that, huh?”

 

“How much do you know?” Duck asked.

 

“Dani told me just about everything. Magic, secret other world, cryptids are just Sylphs we weren’t supposed to see, all that,” Juno said.

 

“Uh-huh,” Duck said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

Juno pointed at Indrid. “You’re the Mothman.”

 

“In a sense, yes,” Indrid said.

 

“And y’all were in some weird secret government torture facility? For two weeks?” Juno asked.

 

“You can understand why I wouldn’t wanna tell anyone about that,” Duck said.

 

“There’s a lot of things I understand now,” Juno said.

 

“Yeah, I got a lot of explaining to do. But so do you, why’d you come here?” Duck asked.

 

“Are you kidding me? My best friend’s gone missing, and then his not-boyfriend’s camper drives through town but neither of you are in it, it’s just a lady who’s secretly a vampire but not, and she says she’s going to rescue a bunch of aliens. How was I supposed to let that go?” Juno said.

 

“What did you even say to her to let you in?” Duck asked.

 

“I dunno, some shit about preservation of life, even from other planets, I think,” Juno said, “It’s a blur, ‘cause I was a little worked up over all this. Must’ve just rolled real well on persuasion or something.”

 

“Well, I mean, you’re handling it better than I did,” Duck said.

 

“What’d you do?” Juno asked.

 

“Fell through a magic portal trying to escape a bear monster,” Duck admitted. Juno laughed.

 

“We should go,” Indrid cut in, putting his hand on Duck’s shoulder. Duck looked over, and Indrid pointed at the glint of sunlight on windshields a couple hundred yards away.

 

“Are you a fugitive now?” Juno asked, raising her eyebrows.

 

“No— not legally, I don’t think,” Duck said.

 

“Well, they hunted me for years, but I think it’s because I’m a magic alien, and also I didn’t think to burn down the laboratories,” Indrid said.

 

“You burned down the laboratories?” Juno asked, getting more incredulous by the second.

 

“Technically, Aubrey did it, but I was definitely an accomplice,” Duck said.

 

“Shit,” Juno laughed, “Guess you still got some fight in you, old man.”

 

“You’re two months older than me,” Duck replied, grinning.

 

“Duck,” Indrid insisted.

 

“Okay, we gotta go, but I’ll catch you up on everything once we get back,” Duck said.

 

“Alright, you better keep that promise, and don’t get up to any more reckless shit like that,” Juno said.

 

“You’re the reckless one, you got into a trailer with a stranger who was also a Sylph,” Duck said.

 

“You have a sentient sword,” Juno said.

 

“See you later,” Duck said, pretending he didn’t hear her.

 

Indrid took his hand and gently pulled him into the truck. Ned was back in the driver’s seat, but Barclay and Aubrey were still helping the Sylphs into the trailer. Duck wondered if they would be going back with Dani and Juno. He looked over at the secret government cars; they were getting closer.

 

“We need to leave,” Indrid said, “Two minutes.”

 

Ned rolled down his window and called out, “Who’s coming in this car?”

 

“Just go,” Barclay yelled back.

 

“You sure?” Ned asked.

 

“Yeah, we got room,” Barclay said.

 

“Alright,” Ned said, though he did not sound alright about it.

 

“I feel like I should be worried,” Indrid said, “But I’m not— I can’t see anything in particular going wrong.”

 

Interesting. Duck remembered what Indrid had said, what felt like centuries ago, about his predictions being affected by his attachment to people. He really hoped that wasn’t the case here. Hopefully, for once, for just a little bit, they could be safe.

 

Ned started the car and drove back out onto the dirt road. Duck settled into the window seat and put on his seatbelt, and Indrid did the same in the middle seat. It would be a long drive. Ned seemed to know what he was doing though, evading the cops. Of all the things going on right now, Duck was least worried about the trip back.

 

He was still surprised that Juno had showed up. He couldn’t believe she just happened to get Dani to tell her everything. Honestly, looking back, she probably knew way more than she let on, even before Duck got involved with Indrid.

 

“Can you believe Juno convinced Dani to bring her along? I mean, I don’t know Dani all too well, so I can’t speak for her, but like, I’ve known Juno my whole life and I haven’t told her about any of this,” Duck said.

 

“Sometimes it’s easier to hear things from strangers,” Indrid mused.

 

“Damn, how come you can just say stuff like that,” Duck said.

 

“I don’t know,” Indrid shrugged. Duck huffed out a laugh and leaned on his shoulder.

 

“No, I mean, like, what if she already knew? Or at least knew some of it?” Duck theorized.

 

“I mean, she seems a lot more observant than you,” Indrid said.

 

“Well, okay, it was willful ignorance, ‘cause I knew if I acknowledged all the weird shit then I’d have to do something about it,” Duck said.

 

“Of course,” Indrid said. He leaned his cheek on Duck’s hair, emitting a soft hum.

 

~☀~

 

Walking into his apartment was too much. Duck unlocked the door by muscle memory, instinctively blocked Winnie’s attempt to run out, and kicked off his shoes onto the mat under the coat rack. Then, as his eyes took in every familiar sight he never thought he would see again, Duck broke down. He couldn’t even help it. Tears streamed from his eyes as he scooped up Winnie and held her against his chest, despite her wiggling protests. Indrid placed a comforting hand on the small of his back.

 

They were home.

 

“You should go lay down,” Indrid said.

 

“I want to take a shower first,” Duck said.

 

“Let me fix your dressings first then,” Indrid said.

 

Duck extended his arm as best as he could. Indrid held it gently, hovering his other hand over the bandages. They glowed red briefly, before fading back to normal.

 

“That’s one thing we’re gonna have to talk about,” Duck chuckled.

 

“Oh, yes, the magic powers that I have,” Indrid said.

 

“I mean, I didn’t— I didn’t think you didn’t have them but what you were doing back there was— it was like, I’ve seen Aubrey’s powers, right, and I thought that was it. But like, you were doing some energy shit, and that was really cool,” Duck said.

 

“Well, thank you, but that’s around eighth place on the list of conversations we need to have,” Indrid smiled, “Come on, I’ll help you get undressed.”

 

“Scandalous,” Duck grinned.

 

“Most things I do are,” Indrid said.

 

They went into the bathroom. Indrid helped Duck out of his clothes, holding him steady as he got into the shower. Duck was simultaneously thrilled and comforted by the contact. He was anticipating being able to curl up in bed with Indrid for as long as possible. As the warm water washed over him, a luxury he didn’t know he would miss so much, he realized just exactly how lucky he was.

 

“Are you coming in?” Duck asked.

 

“Oh— yes, hold on.” Indrid let go of Duck and quickly stripped off his tank top and jeans, the default clothing that came with his disguise. He squeezed in next to Duck. “This isn’t made for two people.”

 

“No,” Duck laughed.

 

“That’s alright,” Indrid said.

 

He had an expression on his face that Duck couldn’t decipher. It was soft, almost wistful. More than that, though, he looked happy. And maybe it was exhaustion, or delirium, but Duck felt happy too. He leaned into Indrid, relishing in the shared warmth between their skin and the water. Indrid leaned his face into Duck’s wet hair.

 

Eventually, they did actually wash up. Once the water started getting cold, Duck knew it was time to get out. He ventured out first, with some moral support from Indrid. He grabbed as many towels as he could from the bar and the cabinet under the sink. Then, shivering, he started bundling himself and Indrid up. Indrid clung to Duck. He was already cold again.

 

Somehow, they maneuvered into warm clothes and into bed. The covers were still piled from the last time they had been there. Two weeks ago. Shit. It felt like years, and yet almost nothing had changed. Well, nothing at home, at least. Duck sighed and wrapped himself around Indrid, who wrapped them both in blankets.

 

“We’re okay,” Duck said softly, more to himself than to Indrid.

 

“We are,” Indrid breathed.

 

“And, assuming they don’t come after us right away, we’re gonna be okay for a while,” Duck said.

 

“Well, we have a week and a half until the next abomination comes, but yes,” Indrid sighed.

 

“Unless that motherfucker manifests in our home physically and violently then I am not leaving this bed,” Duck retorted.

 

Indrid laughed and tucked his face into Duck’s neck. Duck wasn’t even bothered by the sharp edge of Indrid’s glasses. He did wonder, though, if Indrid wanted to take the glasses off.

 

“I didn’t know if I would fit,” Indrid admitted.

 

“Y’know what, you might not be a mind reader in general, but I’ll be damned if you haven’t heard every thought I’ve ever had about you. If it’s more comfortable without the glasses, you know I’d rather you take them off,” Duck said.

 

“I don’t know about every thought,” Indrid said.

 

He took off his glasses, though, and transformed into his full form. Duck scooted backwards a little bit, giving Indrid space to adjust the blankets, but Indrid pulled him back almost immediately. Duck sighed into Indrid’s fuzzy chest.

 

“How’d I get so fuckin’ lucky?” Duck asked.

 

“What, with me or with escaping torture?” Indrid replied. His voice echoed in his chest, next to Duck’s ear.

 

“You,” Duck said.

 

“I’d say that I was the lucky one here, because I can think of literally zero other people that would go through what you did to save me,” Indrid said. His wings moved under the blanket to curl around Duck.

 

“Maybe the universe did something right for once? Putting us together?” Duck offered.

 

“Maybe,” Indrid said.

 

~☀~

 

They spent another twenty-odd hours like that, punctuated with trips to the bathroom and kitchen. Winnie wandered in and out, sometimes joining the tangled cuddling on the bed. Duck slept a lot. Real sleep, not panicked unconsciousness or a drugged haze. Indrid always seemed to be awake when Duck was, which was nice. They didn’t talk much, except to tell the other if they were going somewhere, and that they loved each other.

 

Around eleven in the morning, Duck started getting antsy. He had spent two weeks doing nothing. He loved Indrid, but he couldn’t just sit in one place with him forever. They could sit together in different places, or even walk places together. But Duck needed to move, he needed to be outside, he needed to see his familiar forest.

 

Luckily, Indrid understood. He had been there even longer, after all. They walked out into the pine trees behind the apartment building. Duck talked idly about the start of spring growth. Indrid listened intently. Their words were casual, but their hands were intertwined so tightly that, if not for their stark contrast, it would be impossible to tell where one hand ended and the other began.

 

They reached the river. Duck sat down on a rock, pulling Indrid down with him. It was peaceful. The river babbled, birds chirped in the distance, wind rustled the pine needles.

 

Indrid spoke first. “You came to rescue me.”

 

“Yeah,” Duck replied.

 

“You did that for me,” Indrid said.

 

“I love you, remember? I wasn’t just saying that,” Duck said.

 

“I know, and I love you too, I just… it’s hard to believe anyone would go through all that with any amount of intent. I know you didn’t want to get captured, because that would be insane, but you knew you were going to be in so much danger and you still did it,” Indrid said.

 

“Can I say, I definitely would not like to do it again, so please don’t turn yourself in next time,” Duck said.

 

“You know you would have died trying to protect me,” Indrid said.

 

“Would it have worked?” Duck asked.

 

Indrid was silent. Duck wasn’t a mind reader either, but Indrid wasn’t so hard to understand once you knew what to look for.

 

“Well now that’s character development, ain’t it?” Duck said, leaning back. “When we first met, I don’t think you would’ve hesitated for a second.”

 

“And yet you’ve stayed exactly the same, willing to put your life on the line for me,” Indrid said.

 

“I’m a pretty consistent guy,” Duck shrugged, “Just… just promise me you’ll tell me if something like this even comes close to happening ever again.”

 

“I promise,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright. I love you,” Duck said.

 

“I love you too,” Indrid replied.

 

~☀~

 

Difficult conversations seemed to be the theme of Duck’s life for the next week. He started with Leo, because he was the closest and would probably have the shortest lecture.

 

“So, Duck, where do you wanna start? The disappearing for two weeks or the moth boyfriend?” Leo asked, sitting down at Duck’s kitchen table.

 

“Well, it’s kinda connected, so I’ll start from the beginning,” Duck said. He took a deep breath. “Basically, you know I’ve been hanging out with Indrid for a while. And that Stern guy has been hounding him, ever since he came back to town. It turns out Stern’s a lot more observational than we gave him credit for, because he came after Indrid at his trailer, and took him down to DC for secret government torture-research. I went after Stern, because I wasn’t gonna let Indrid rot in a cell for however long they kept him alive. Then I got stuck there, for the two weeks, and then Aubrey and Ned and Barclay helped us both get out, along with a bunch of Sylphs who had been there for a while. Me and Indrid conked out for a long while once we got back, but now I’m trying to catch up on everything.”

 

“Y’know, I had Indrid all wrong. I thought he might have been— well, nevermind. I know you don’t need my blessing or anything, but he’s not too bad. If you like him enough to nearly die like you did, then he must be a pretty good guy,” Leo said.

 

“Yeah,” Duck said.

 

“Where is he?” Leo frowned.

 

“He’s sleeping right now, or at least pinned under Winnie. Thanks for taking care of her, by the way,” Duck said.

 

“Yeah, of course. Just ‘cause her owner’s a reckless dumbass doesn’t mean she should be left alone,” Leo said.

 

“Fair enough,” Duck said, looking down at the table.

 

“It was a real dumb thing to do,” Leo said.

 

“Yeah, I know, and I know I’m lucky as hell that it all worked out,” Duck said.

 

“As your mentor and therefore the person whose advice you have to follow, don’t do it again,” Leo said.

 

“I really don’t plan to,” Duck said.

 

“Good,” Leo said.

 

The bedroom door opened. Duck looked back to see a bedhead Indrid, holding Winnie like an overstuffed bag of groceries.

 

“Hey,” Duck said.

 

“Hello,” Indrid said. He set Winnie down and walked over to the table.

 

“Hi, Indrid, it’s nice to see you,” Leo said trepidly.

 

Duck looked over at Indrid. He was sure Indrid knew that Leo had been trying to protect Duck. Still, he knew Indrid could hold a grudge, if the energy between him and Barclay was any indication.

 

“It’s nice to see you too,” Indrid said. He sounded polite, but Duck knew it was fake. Leo didn’t seem to notice, though, so hopefully they could remain civil.

 

Leo sighed and stood up. “I should get going, I gotta pick up my nephew from school. It’s been nice catching up with you.”

 

“See ya,” Duck said, as Leo walked out the door.

 

“Do you think I’m going to get some kind of shovel talk?” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, probably from Juno. I would say Mama, too, but that ship done sailed. She did the other way around, telling me not to get my feelings wrecked or whatever. And, I mean, I don’t think she trusts you too much, but she’s not gonna be hostile,” Duck said.

 

“Good to know,” Indrid said.

 

“Speaking of which, I think I’m gonna talk to Mama before I talk to Juno, just so I can figure out how much of the beans I should spill,” Duck said.

 

“It sounds like Dani already spilled most of them, or at least that’s what Juno said. I don’t doubt that she already knew something,” Indrid said.

 

“Yeah, I always thought she’d be a much better Chosen One than me,” Duck said.

 

"Really?" Indrid tilted his head.

 

"Well, she was real good at archery and street hockey through high school and college, I feel like those skills transfer well," Duck said.

 

"I could see that," Indrid said, “When were you thinking of talking to Mama?”

 

“I might just get it over with today? You don’t have to come, she’s gonna lecture me for like, an hour, so you might as well stay home. ‘Sides, I wanna thank everyone who helped us get out, maybe learn their real names, so that’ll take a bit,” Duck said.

 

“I think Mama is going to want to talk to me too,” Indrid said.

 

“Do you wanna do that today?” Duck asked.

 

“Like you said, we might as well get it over with,” Indrid replied.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Duck said, “Now?”

 

“Sure,” Indrid said.

 

They went out to Duck’s truck. Indrid fussed over Duck’s arm with driving, but Duck assured him it would be fine. There weren’t any harsh turns between here and the lodge, anyway. They drove past the funicular line, up the dirt road, and into the parking lot of Amnesty Lodge. As they approached the door, Indrid squeezed Duck’s hand. Duck squeezed back reassuringly.

 

There were a few people hanging out in the lobby. They looked up at the new arrivals. Duck saw Jake, Moira, and a couple werewolves whose names he couldn’t remember. He also saw the wispy figure, the fluid individual, and the bird person. They all seemed a lot more lively than when he first met them.

 

“Hello,” Duck greeted.

 

A chorus of ‘hello’ and ‘hey’ and some general waves sounded through the lobby.

 

“Y’all know where Mama is?” Duck asked.

 

“She’s in her office,” Moira answered.

 

“Great, thanks,” Duck said.

 

He pulled Indrid down the hallway as quickly as possible. He was a little anxious; what if Mama was genuinely mad at him? She hadn’t disapproved of the plan at first, but that was two weeks ago. As he stopped just outside the door, he hesitated. Then, before he could psych himself out, he knocked on the door. Indrid was silent through Duck’s entire moment of turmoil.

 

“Come in,” Mama called out.

 

Duck opened the door slowly. Mama looked up from her desk. Her expression changed as she stood up and walked over to Duck. Duck felt Indrid’s hand disappear just as Mama wrapped her arms around him.

 

“Duck Newton, if you ever try a stunt like this again I’m gonna kill you myself,” Mama said.

 

“I know,” Duck said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“I knew the second you mentioned him that something like this would happen,” Mama said, stepping back.

 

“It wasn’t his fault, it was Stern,” Duck said.

 

“I know, but I also know that it’s my fault for letting you go,” Mama said.

 

“I would’ve found a way to go anyway,” Duck said.

 

“Yeah, you would’ve,” Mama sighed. She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “Go ahead and sit down, I’m gonna need a mission report from y’all.”

 

Duck looked over at Indrid. He seemed hesitant. Duck met his eyes (or rather, his glasses), and he relaxed a little bit. They sat down in the chairs.

 

“So, uh, where d’you want me to start? The whole thing, or just the last bit?” Duck asked.

 

“How’d you get there, and how’d you get out?” Mama asked.

 

“Well, we tracked Stern’s car like you said, and then Ned and Barclay acted as my bodyguards to get into the facility, we said I was called in to be questioned about how they found Indrid in my forest. It was playing right into Stern’s hands, apparently, because I got captured. Then, literally right as me and Indrid got out of our first combined interrogation thing, the fire alarm went off. I’m assuming that was Aubrey. Me and Indrid took off to try and rescue all the other people trapped there. We got everyone and met Aubrey down the hall, then Aubrey took the Sylphs while me and Indrid held them off. I killed a few people, I think, so that’s something. Then I got shot, and Stern was like ‘you dumb motherfucker, should’ve just told me everything’ and then Indrid here killed him and carried me to the exit and I’m assuming to the hospital, ‘cause that’s where I woke up,” Duck explained.

 

Mama considered that. She looked over at Indrid. “Any blanks you wanna fill in?”

 

“I knew that we were going to be rescued within about eight hours of it happening, so I had a plan ready. I couldn’t tell Duck this plan until it was in motion for fear of ruining the whole thing. Also, I did definitely kill Stern. I don’t know that it was the smartest choice, but I also was not thinking very clearly at the time. I don’t foresee any immediate repercussions, though, so I think we’re good there,” Indrid said.

 

“Hmm,” Mama said. She glanced over at her laptop. “Y’all brought back six people. Six, out of hundreds that have been missing since the seventies. Would you say it’s safe to assume the rest of those people are dead?”

 

“I…” Duck looked down at the floor. He knew that there was no good answer, and he didn’t want Indrid to have to take this question by himself. “We brought back everyone that was there. It’s possible there’s other facilities, but…”

 

“I see,” Mama said.

 

Indrid was dead quiet. He wasn’t even pretending to breathe. He was frozen, literally and figuratively. Duck reached over and took Indrid’s hand.

 

Mama looked at Indrid too. “Look, Indrid, I can’t… I can’t blame you for what happened. I wasn’t there, obviously, and it wouldn’t be productive to just be pointing fingers. But I need to know: is there anyone else out there that we should try and save?”

 

“Yes. Eighteen people, in Nevada. Area 51. I know it’s not— it isn’t nearly as many people as it should be, but they’re the only ones I know about,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright,” Mama said. She scribbled something down on the back of a receipt. “I think some people here wanted to thank you both, so you should go talk to them.”

 

“Yeah, I wanna thank them too. Bye Mama, I’ll see you in… a week, give or take,” Duck said.

 

“G’bye,” Mama said. She was already distracted, looking through a binder.

 

Indrid led the charge this time, out of Mama’s office and back to the lobby. It was emptier now, with just the bird person and the formless figure. Duck wondered if that was planned.

 

“I’m going to go talk to some of the others,” Indrid said.

 

“Okay,” Duck nodded.

 

Indrid pressed a kiss to Duck’s cheek and went off towards the staircase. Duck watched him go for a moment, before turning back to the main seating area.

 

Duck approached the bird person first. “Hey, uh, just wanted to thank you for your help as we were, uh, getting out of there.”

 

The bird person replied, in an unsettling medley of voices, “Well, I should thank you for getting me and the others out of there. I’m Jay, by the way.”

 

“Cool name,” Duck said, “Are you, uh, gonna be going back to Sylvain?”

 

“No, I was exiled a while ago, so I’m going to stick around here until I figure out where I want to go next,” Jay said.

 

“Oh, alright. Well, uh, have fun while you’re here, and good luck with whatever you end up doing,” Duck said.

 

“Thanks,” Jay said genuinely, “And, uh, no one else besides Bryn speaks in a human language, but they all say thank you as well. You can talk to Bryn, too, she’s out in the garden.”

 

“Okay, take care now,” Duck said.

 

The formless figure waved. Duck nodded to them and went out the back door to the garden. He saw Dani and Aubrey sitting on the porch swing, but they were deep in conversation and didn’t even acknowledge him. Out a ways from the raised beds, Duck saw the ground woman, Bryn, sitting on a bench. She was a more distinct shape now, with two leg-like appendages and swaths of grass forming a cloak over her arms. He walked down the meandering flagstone path to get to her.

 

“Hello, Duck Newton,” she said, without looking over. Her voice was strong and gravelly.

 

“Hello, uh, Bryn, was it?” Duck said.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for all your help, when we were, um, escaping that place,” Duck said.

 

“Have a seat,” Bryn said.

 

Duck did so quietly. He looked out at the treetop skyline sloping down into the valley. It was beautiful. After so long staring at blank grey walls, Duck had an even deeper appreciation for the vast expanse of freedom before him.

 

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to see a forest?” Bryn asked.

 

“How long?” Duck replied.

 

“Fifty-seven years,” Bryn said, “I was telling myself: if I ever make it out of all these places they’re keeping me, I’m going to live in a forest.”

 

“That’s a long time,” Duck said. He hadn’t even been alive that long.

 

“Well, I’ve lived for quite some time, so it’s not the longest time I’ve ever been in one place. It is the most recent, so the bitterest memories are the most fresh. But thanks to you, Duck, I will be able to move on from those memories some day. I can live in a forest again,” Bryn said.

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Duck said honestly.

 

“I know you feel lost, Duck Newton, and I cannot tell you where to go, but I know you are on the right road,” Bryn said.

 

“Uh… thanks,” Duck said.

 

“You can go now, I think Indrid is waiting for you,” Bryn said.

 

“Alright, I’ll see you around,” Duck said.

 

He stood up from the bench and started walking up the path. It was a nice day, with cool pre-spring weather and warm sunlight. As Bryn had said, Indrid was sitting on the steps of the back porch. He smiled at Duck as he approached.

 

“Hey, you ready to go home?” Duck asked.

 

“I think so,” Indrid replied.

 

Duck offered him a hand up, and they started walking around the building to the parking lot.

 

“Have any enlightening conversations?” Duck asked.

 

“Yeah, um, I talked to my cousin, Jay, after you went to talk to Bryn,” Indrid said.

 

“Wait, he’s your cousin?” Duck raised his eyebrows.

 

“Yes, um, sort of. We grew up together, though I lost contact with him after I left Sylvain, obviously,” Indrid explained, “I didn’t know he was exiled. Also, he thinks it’s funny that you also have a bird name.”

 

“Small world, huh,” Duck mused.

 

“Yes. Oh, and I got my necklace back,” Indrid said.

 

“You didn’t— shit, how did I not notice you didn’t have it?” Duck replied.

 

“Well, I’ve been clinging to you so much, I didn’t need it as much as they did,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s sweet and all, but it also means I’m the worst boyfriend ever for not noticing that the necklace you need to live is gone,” Duck said, opening the car door with his good arm.

 

“I gave it to the twins while you were talking to Juno, I would have brought it up if it were important,” Indrid said.

 

“Still,” Duck said vaguely, “Wanna get dinner on the way home?”

 

“Yeah,” Indrid nodded.

 

~☀~

 

It was a full six days after his return that Duck mustered up the energy to talk to Juno. He hadn’t gone back to work yet, so he hadn’t even seen her since she showed up in DC. Yesterday, he called her to see if she wanted to get coffee and discuss… well, everything. Roughly twenty-five years of secrets, plus everything that had gone down in the past six months.

 

Juno had agreed, so now Duck was sitting in the Kepler Cup. He held a mug of coffee between his hands, waiting for Juno to arrive. Her preferred drink, chai tea, was placed across from him. The bell over the door jingled, and he looked up. It was Juno.

 

“Hey, how’re you holding up?” Juno waved.

 

“I’m doing alright. Got your drink,” Duck said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the table.

 

“Thanks,” Juno said. She sat down, and things were quiet for a minute.

 

“I should… I should tell you what happened to me, first,” Duck said.

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Juno said.

 

“Really I should’ve told you as soon as it happened, but… I didn’t want to believe it had happened. I didn’t want to believe a lot of stuff,” Duck said.

 

“Go ahead. I’m not mad at you, you know that, right?” Juno said.

 

“Yeah, I’m just… a little mad at myself, for all the time I wasted,” Duck said. He cleared his throat. “So, you remember like, my eighteenth birthday right, where I told you I had a real bad trip and ended up dyeing my hair and all that? Well, I made that up, because the reality was that a blue alien lady gave me cool powers and instructions on how the be the Chosen One. I had like, invincibility and superhuman strength and reflexes and all that. And that sword, that I’ve been wearing as a belt recently? A real sword, believe it or not.

 

“Anyways, I ignored the lady, Minerva, until she left me alone. That lasted a solid twenty… twenty five years, I think. Then, as I’m getting chased through the woods by something way too monstrous to be a bear, she comes back, and I end up running through the portal to Sylvain. Then I got recruited to the Pine Guard, and I’ve been part of the abomination-hunting crew since.

 

“Except that, right after we killed the last one, the one that caused, uh, caused Danimal’s accident and the big sinkhole and all that, Minerva showed up for the last time. She broke off the connection to my brain, so I lost all my powers except visions of the future. That’s why I’ve been all beat up recently, not because Indrid hit me with a car,” Duck finished.

 

“So you’ve just been spending time with him to spend time with him?” Juno asked.

 

“More or less,” Duck said.

 

“Well, I’m happy for you, at least for things with him. Clearly you got lots of other shit going on, so tell me: why were you gone for two weeks? Leo said you told him you were going to a work conference, which immediately tipped me off that you were doing some dumb shit,” Juno said.

 

“So, uh, Indrid’s the Mothman, you got that, and uh, that weird FBI dude, Stern, was after him. So Stern shows up and Indrid’s trailer one night and basically kidnaps him. Indrid called me right before it happened to say goodbye. I went over to see what was going on, and he was gone, so me and the Pine Guard, minus Mama, tracked Stern’s car.

 

“We ended up at the weird laboratory-prison-thing where all the Sylphs you helped transport were being held, plus Indrid. They ended up keeping me too, for info on Indrid and the gate and because of my Chosen One powers. That was after they were gone, though, and I didn’t have Beacon— that’s the sword’s name, by the way. But yeah, I was basically useless to them, so they were just doing all these tests on me. They kept me in this weird room, too, in solitary confinement. That’s where I spent most of my time, and it was hell.

 

“But, obviously we got out. Indrid n’ I released everyone we could find, and fought off the guards. Indrid’s a fuckin’ powerhouse, turns out. Shoots lasers or whatever. He killed Stern after I got shot—” Duck held up his bandaged arm “—and we got out. I woke up in the hospital, and then we met up with you.”

 

Juno looked relieved and extremely concerned at the same time. She took a long drink of her tea and looked out the window. “That’s… wow, Duck, holy shit.”

 

“Yeah, I’m still fuckin’ losing my mind, ‘cause like…” Duck lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “I had to kill people! Like real, living people! With a sword! I didn’t have a choice!”

 

Juno grimaced, “Shit, Duck, I’m sorry, that’s… I don’t even know what to say. That’s like, twelve different kinds of fucked up.”

 

“I’m still getting, like, nightmares about it,” Duck admitted, “I mean, it hasn’t even been a week yet.”

 

“You’re gonna need to talk to a therapist,” Juno said.

 

“Yeah, I just gotta find one that takes clients who are inextricably tangled with a secret magic other planet,” Duck laughed bitterly.

 

“Yeah,” Juno sighed.

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on regular human things. Duck missed this, missed Juno, missed Kepler, and he was glad he was able to come back to it.

 

~☀~

 

“You’re gonna be late for work,” Indrid said softly. He wasn’t relenting from his position, wrapped around Duck like an oversized koala.

 

Duck grumbled, pushing his face further into Indrid’s chest. “ I don’t wanna go to work. ”

 

“—I know, but you have to, it’s your first day back,” Indrid said.

 

“I know,” Duck sighed.

 

“I love you,” Indrid said.

 

“I love you too,” Duck smiled.


End file.
